Subject to Change
by Iseki
Summary: Angela loses direction during her quest for the rainbows, and Chase though reluctant is strangely curious. But restoring the Goddess Tree has become a task that not even the knowledgeable Gill could have predicted. And once complete, is there anyway to undo what is already done? Or destiny simply to accept change Angela/Chase/Gill/?
1. Agreement

**_Introduction: Agreement_**

* * *

It was during the late autumn, when things were generally winding down for the winter. Craig's crops were fewer and far between. The animals were sleepy and quick to turn in for the day. The bar was certainly busier.

Gill was flustered with her wooing; something she'd found altogether charming in the beginning but was fast becoming wearisome. It was starting to feel less like shyness and more like indifference now. His work ethic that had once quickly developed her respect was becoming the mistress to her jealous lover. So Sundae Inn was rewarded with another familiar to drink tonight.

She mused over her blueberry fizz that she hadn't really been serious about Gill. He'd just been easy to connect with amid the whole saving-the-island-with-magical-rainbows thing. Which is more than can be said for the average guy.

"Hey Luke, did you know I made a rainbow today?"

"Way to be."

"Huh?"

"I make rainbows every day! Me and my axe!"

That shiny optimism in him seemed to immediately mistake her statement of fact as some life metaphor for happiness. She envied it but wouldn't ever attempt to press the issue further. Sure, make rainbows every day. She was trying.

And then Owen:

"See that rainbow?"

"Yeah."

"I know where it came from."

"Oh, did you hear the story from my sister? Pretty cute huh?"

Cue darling Chloe weaving her elaborate story about an epic battle between witch and wizard finally solved by the Goddess and the power of love creating a rainbow that only lovers could cross, complete with voices and expressive little pink-gloved hands.

It really was cute. Perhaps true. But Angela once again walked home alone with the absence of that something. The other half of her heart? A pat on the back? A friend? If the sprites had a bit more life in them she might have talked with them excitedly, late into the night. Eager to meet their goddess who haunted her dreams with her ethereal beauty. But they could only wait for her power to be revived, sleeping deep in the earth until it woke them. There was only Angela.

Not that she sulked. She was a natural-born worker who strives for perfection. Sometimes she took it too far.

Jin says: "you must rest when you are tired or you will get very sick."

"I haven't got time to rest."

"What are you rushing for? You have your whole young life ahead of you…"

The doctor had sad eyes some days. Once she'd wanted to fix that. She took Jin to her first ever Firefly Festival and was enchanted by his strong quiet wisdom. The next day when she could wait no longer to see him she stepped upon a tender moment between him and Anissa, Souffle farm's eldest. In a week they were married and Jin's sadness seemed painted over, so she did the same. If he couldn't wait for her to heal him then she wouldn't allow herself to taste that bitterness. She did rest after that, if only to avoid that hospital bed and his too kind words again.

She was a young woman with a thirsty heart, but she needed to take a step back from the hunt. The loneliness was an open-wound but one she could hide for the most part and she definitely didn't want some wolf to swoop in after a taste of it. She had her expectations of romance.

But, a moment of weakness, her second blueberry fizz brought no further meaning to the evening. Her third, however, was pushed across the bare counter by smooth fingers that had clearly not belonged to Hayden but were too masculine to be Cathy's. She looked up from the glass and her eyes met Chase: beautiful, driven, sharp-tongued Chase who could win the cooking contest without battling an eyelash and not even stay to collect his prize. He would smile at you one second and the sky would go rosy the next he'd declare his disinterest and walk away. At least he was honest.

"You look cheery," in other words, using our clever reverse-sarcasm translator: You look like crap.

"Hi Chase." Simple. I wasn't hunting anymore, remember. And I was in a pretty pitiable mood.

"We don't often get the young pretty types drowning their sorrows here." He was still digging.

"Hamilton doesn't look a day over eighteen, and you know it." My joke was not even granted a courtesy laugh.

"Hm, yeah. Astonishing wit aside, what brings you to the soliloquy-corner?" I scanned my side of the bar shortly. He was right; I was well and truly drinking alone and taking audience up with the air. I sighed. When I met his gaze again I was surprised. Not by the slightly raised eyebrow or the small curl in his lip as if to say 'see, I'm always right.' but by his eyes which were brilliantly purple and earnest, wordlessly beseeching me to confide in him. And they were beginning to convince me.

"Okay. Sure." I said out loud. Not really to answer him, not even to myself, but to those eyes that were asking. It was also to buy time to find the words for my soliloquy. However, I'm not very poetic, "I think there's something wrong with me, but I can't decide what it is or what I should do about it or who I should tell. I think all the people on this island are interacting with me on a two-dimensional field and no one will ever see that third secret side of me, therefore the only recognition I can seek is from my goat or from…" I thought better of throwing mention of the Goddess out and making myself appear even crazier to a man I hardly know, "a dream."

"I'm here for a reason. I thought it was to farm, but it turns out to be much greater. Except I can't share it with anyone in case, heaven forbid, they start giving me that exact look you're giving me now every time I pass them on the street." I guess he must have had some humility in him because he managed to shake the expression away. I could understand it; it wasn't just boy troubles, I had unloaded a years-worth of insecurity on him. We shared a rare moment of awkwardness.

"Well" he laughed finally, pulling a rag across the bar-top. "This is sort of beyond my degree. I'm only a cook you know." I released my breath. Had I been hoping for more? From the guy who cares for nothing but food but doesn't even like to taste his own dishes? My mouth went sour, regretful, but as I was about to turn away from him in an act of defiance he spoke again, quieter this time, "just a two-dimensional cook."

I studied him at length, but the window to the earnestness I'd seen in his eyes before had fallen closed with the shutters of a smile. A smile that said nothing only pulled his lips in a strict unassuming curve. That same one that had charmed much of the island's female population but now only appeared empty and dull.

* * *

Another week passed with much avoiding of island life. I would cater to the animals, water the crop rows, collect scant material and forage, and spend the rest of the afternoon in solitude. I admit it was getting quite pathetic.

She met Toby fishing from the dock at the lake one day. She joined in but caught nothing and she had little else to do when he moved under Ben's tree and promptly fell asleep. She sat beside him and cast another line; however the fish seemed to be as lost as she was. She wondered briefly as her gaze rested on Toby's gentle breathing whether this counted as human interaction or not. She left before he woke up.

And the story begins again in the same bar: this time over a dish of bouillabaisse that the two-dimensional cook could just barely bring himself to serve me. I couldn't tell exactly what his problem was, whether he was just loathe to serve at all or if I had dearly insulted him last time. Either way, the plate dropped in front of me from his towel-protected hand and he disappeared back into the kitchen without so much as a hello. Why was he serving anyway? Maya was wandering around looking ever the space-cadet and examining the floorboards on the other side of the room. Even Cathy was here on dish duty.

My fork flicked at the food for a minute before I decided to eat. If it was poisoned I might be released from this monotonous misery that I had sunken into so willingly. It was delicious and completely worth dying for, but instead of death came another little surprise hidden inside the neat even slice of my bread roll: a note. I took it between my fingers and felt its warmth. From the kitchen I caught Chase's eye and he gave me no response whatsoever; that in itself was enough for me. A little snort of laughter escaped. It was like high school all over again.

I peeled the paper apart and read carefully:

_Meet at the square._

That was all. Like some kind of conspiracy movie in which we were the only ones to survive so long as we kept our wits about us. Meet here, do as I say and you'll stay alive. Didn't that type usually end in some kind of poorly thought out sexual romp? If there was ever a sequel the love interest was sure to have changed. Perhaps I was over thinking this? Maybe that was exactly what he was trying to do. I couldn't read him, I didn't know what to expect, and it was somewhat exciting.

Maybe that's why I went.

* * *

It was past just after midnight when he showed. I'd been waiting on the bench for about an hour with nothing better to fill my time. In the moonlight he looked as pretty as a girl except when he approached me his serious demeanor and tall leanness made my heart stumble. I was caught in his shadow.

"Did you like it?" his eyes bore into mine.

I was worried by my own breathiness, "did I like what?"

"My food, of course." He set his knuckles against his slim waist haughtily, as if I was wasting the time he requested of me.

"y-yes!" I chirped rapidly. It had actually been a little bit of happiness in my otherwise dismal week. Each flavor harmonizing perfectly, my dull hunger replaced with sweet satisfaction.

"So what were you hiding for?" He was smirking now. My answer clearly the one he'd wanted. "I've been waiting for you all week long." He took my arm, completely heedless of my feelings and towed me back into town.

I was floundering for words, which was quite unlike me, but I didn't dislike the change. I felt in a trance, and I think he knew. His hand skimmed down the bare flesh of my forearm and then threaded with mine. His eyes were shining playfully, "Don't worry, I don't bite." We were heading for his home.

I was trembling; I was terrified. My heart was pounding like a drum. It happened so fast that I didn't really have the chance to react. I'd been caught by the wolf.

* * *

"At first I didn't want anything to do with you." Chase set a steaming cup of tea in front of me. Not some gourmet stuff, just a bag on a string in a mug of hot water; mint it smelled like.

"Thanks very much," For the tea and the consideration.

He ignored my quip, "You seemed as dreamy as the rest of them. But then I realized that you actually meant what you'd said." When he saw that my face remained blank he reminded me, "the dimensional thing. About never seeing the whole picture." His lips curled into a smile that was lopsided and roguish.

"Oh." I blushed remembering the moment; pouring my heart out to strangers in a bar was not something I was planning to make a habit of.

He sat opposite me at the table with a matching mug of tea, "then while you were avoiding me, you were always on my mind."

I was flattered at the same time that he was flattering himself; he wasn't the only one I'd been avoiding. Right? I had to clear my throat before answering in case my voice came out anything other than confident, "I never pictured you as the type to want what he can't have." I gave him a coy smile, trying to regain my foothold on the situation.

His expression remained closed, "Always have been." The unspoken suggestion that there was a lot I didn't know about him failed to escape me.

"But why-"

"I want to find your third secret side." His raw honesty gave me shivers. "Will you let me try, Angela?"

He hardly had to ask, by now I was so far under his spell that he could have demanded it of me and I would have nodded bewilderedly in consent. But instead he offered on one hand his genuine desire to know me and on the other the chance to flee should I want it. He was like a child waiting to be told right from wrong. It won me over; it made the answer very simple.

"Yes."

* * *

_A/N: __that really did happen while I was pursuing Jin. I had no idea how the rival system worked and it was a harsh learning curve, but I suppose its made for some interesting back-story here._

_Thanks for reading, I hope I've hooked you in for more._


	2. Flowers

_**Flowers**_

_As mentioned by "fearless fox" in a helpful review, there may have been some confusion with the point-of-view in the first chapter. I know I have a knack for using omniscient narrative most times, so all-knowing of the focal character's feeling that it's nearly first-person. In the introductory chapter I wanted to phrase the past tense as if Angela was remembering back and retelling then when we returned to the present it would be in full first-person. When I read this back to myself it seems to flow alright, although I'm not sure if it's an obvious rule-break or not. My apologies to those who saw it and were put off. Hereafter the story will be in Angela's first-person point of view. I may return to edit the intro once I know more._

_Thank you for returning for another chapter!_

* * *

The first day of my so-called agreement with Chase passed without a second glance from him. He ran so hot and cold with me that I had trouble recognizing him as the princely type, rescuing the damsel from her despair, than the devil who was quick to put her there.

The day after, sat at my discretely placed table in the back of the inn for a liquid lunch of coffee and weak porridge I was preparing myself to march into the kitchen and give him a thorough telling off for toying with a girl's heart but I became suddenly overwhelmed with humiliation that I'd even agreed to it in the start. After all, I still didn't know the first thing about him and this could all be a well-crafted gag for him to enjoy. Another one bites the dust; add her to the pile of corpses that were the other just as gullible and desperate females, so to speak. I was a notch, damn it.

My porridge tasted awful after that little inner-dialogue. I glanced coolly toward Chase who was exchanging words with Yolanda peaceably. There wasn't a shadow of unease on his face; he looked so youthful and bright when he was learning that it made his roguish personality outside of cooking that much more appealing. I detested the way my stomach gave a flutter when his eyes found mine and he smiled. I deserted my porridge and left.

I hated that I was dwelling on this so much. Maybe it wasn't dwelling so much as depending, and that's what really sent me into self-loathing; I didn't want to be the type of girl that depended on a guy, any guy, to collect her from her successes, however miserably lonely they may be, and whisk her away to never-never land for long afternoons of profuse lovemaking. Sure, I wanted the loneliness to disappear, and the lovemaking wouldn't go amiss… but I can't wait for Chase to magically make that all happen. After all, even if it wasn't a joke; I wasn't in love with him.

I hastily decided that a bit of hard labor might do me some good to forget, so I collected my tools and headed for Luke's usual haunts.

"Yo!"

"Morning Luke," I smashed open a rock in one swing.

"You're looking good today." He beamed at me. I was deigning to disagree but I thanked him with a half-hearted smile. No point in trying to bring the indestructible Luke down with me. His golden eyes twinkled, "Fancy a contest?"

"What kind of contest…" I really wasn't sure I had the energy.

He seemed to pause, lips pursed, fingers drumming on his lean muscular arms as they were crossed thoughtfully. "How about a race?" I couldn't help but laugh, it was hard to believe we were the same age but I kind of appreciated that about him.

"Promise to go easy on me?" I tried to flutter my eyelashes in appeal but he only grinned toothily back.

"Never!" The plan was to run from the forest to the yard of Souffle Farm and then back before Craig shouted at us and Ruth came rushing out thinking there had been some kind of horrific accident.

We'd both taken our places and respective running positions when Dale called Luke back in to work. He shrugged, still grinning and left saying that we'd do it next time. His fervor for the contest dissolved just as quickly as it had formed. I heaved a sigh and smashed more rocks. Although it wasn't much, the distraction of work and Luke had helped to restore some of my normally sunny disposition. Not enough though that it remained wholly intact when I came home later and found Chase sat on my doorstep, huddled against the cold.

"Chase! How long have you been sat there?" It was asked out of concern but that may have come out more harshly than it should have.

"Sorry, I didn't think I needed an appointment." He stood and was waiting patiently.

"It's open you know. You could have gone in to wait."

"Oh yeah, the welcome would have been even warmer if you'd have come home to me sat in the dark at the dining table. You'd probably hit me," was he pouting? "with a weapon of some sort. Hard." Okay, I get it. I opened the door for him and gestured magnificently.

"Well you didn't give me much reason to expect you." I started again as I followed him in.

"What do you mean, I thought we agreed that I-"

I put my hand out to cut him off, my face feeling annoyingly hot, "Yeah. I remember." Behind my hand that cut him off a smile grew, one that I knew I didn't like the look of; full of arrogance and knowing. He made a sound in his throat like he'd established something and redirected his focus on my home.

"Decent," was all he'd said. Since his house was delightfully homey with tea to offer a guest, I suppose this was about right. It was sparsely furnished and what was there certainly didn't match. I did have some dried herb I could boil though…in the fridge maybe. "Come on," he took my hand "We're going to my place."

"What! It's not that bad!" my face was warm again.

He laughed not maliciously, "I never said it was. But there might be something back at mine that you'll like."

I couldn't tell if this was a really watery pickup-line or genuine observation, although the honesty in his face and lack thereof any smirking or incessant eyebrow waggling had me believing the latter. Chances were he'd never used a pickup-line in his life. I enjoyed imagining the scenarios as he walked me back to his place wordlessly.

He stopped at the door and pulled me forward by the hand, "Ladies first," he said, and like a perfect gentleman he opened the door for me and stood aside. My heart had begun to beat rapidly, wondering what could be waiting for me in his dimly lit little house. Surely the only thing I had to be wary of was the wolf that'd led me here and was now behind me…

Said wolf flicked on the overhead lights and at the same time a shower of something sweet smelling and soft fell over my head. My fingers grasped rose petals as they tumbled down my shoulders and my eyes lit upon an array of flowers arranged on his coffee table from red to violet. Like a rainbow.

Chase's presence had left my back and was now by my side. I could feel his gaze acutely; intensely studious so as not to miss a thing.

I was at a loss for words, this was definitely not on my list of expectations and it was wonderful. As sad as it was, I'd never been given flowers before. "T-thank you."

"Hm." He paused. "I thought girls were meant to smile at flowers."

I laughed a little, brushing the petals from my hair, thinking he was teasing me, "You mean you don't know?"

"I've never given anyone flowers before. It was Maya's idea," he plucked a leaf from her shoulder. "Well, I figured out the rainbow part." There was some sheepishness then, carefully folded between his well maintained confidences. He had planned this all out; he'd even gone through with it, but it was a first for him as well. He smoothed back his hair and tried to look noncommittal.

I considered the flowers again; it must have taken some effort and it was all to see me smile, "Really. Thank you." So I rewarded him with what he wanted. I smiled with all the sunshine and happiness I knew. I hadn't done it in a while and it felt good.

He gradually closed the space between us but I was caught up in my smiling and the harmony of floral perfumes that filled the room. I could feel his warmth as he leaned closer, I could smell his shampoo and the soft cooking flavors that clung to his skin from work, and I gratefully met him for more. His lips were thin and yielding, almost unresponsive as I pressed myself against him. As if he couldn't quite believe what was happening. So I kissed him gently and ran my palms over his biceps to his shoulders and neck, touching the errant tips of his hair experimentally. I wished I could put a finger on his taste but frankly my senses were too overwhelmed to find it.

Finally I backed away and he apologized, "I didn't expect you to… that's not what I want…" He seemed to rethink each sentence looking worryingly undone, "I mean that, I'm not doing this just to get…"

"Yeah, I know." I toed through some of the scattered petals. "It just felt right."

He relaxed, watching me for another moment before leaving it behind us. "So, tea? I've made some cake as well."

"Yes please." I sat at the altar of my flowers appreciating each species and color of the rainbow in turn; my senses weakened so that I hardly heard Chase's noises from the kitchen as I felt the remains of our kiss on my lips.


	3. Plan

_**Plan**_

_Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I am on cloud nine to receive such encouragement!_

_I apologize first off that the "date" to Toucan Island in this chapter may be reminiscent to a situation in Yoru no Angel's fantastic "Bittersweet" but if we are sticking to mundane island life...I wasn't left with a huge lot of option for the outing. Consider it more a homage. _

* * *

I was staring intensely, deeply, and passionately into a pair of lidded dark eyes; sure that my answer would be found there. Unfortunately all my pet turtle could tell me was that he was eager for the dried fish I had stashed in my pocket. His gentle slightly-beaked mouth closed on the fabric so as to affect me. I heaved an upward sigh that it scattered my finely straightened fringe about my forehead and then pushed him back kindly so as to unzip the pocket and offer it to him, "Some help you've been."

Today I was going to meet Chase for dinner. Not at the inn amongst his work colleagues, nor even at his house where I was becoming quite accustomed, but at the Pineapple Inn on Toucan Island. First we would suffer the half-hour boat trip to get there and my suitor informed me that I was to look presentable. I was a farmer now; my most presentable outfit was a pair of jean shorts and a shirt that was the least worn at the elbows. So first I was looking forward to an afternoon in the delightful company of Luna and her cripplingly shy sister Candace while they fitted me with some sort of dress that I can only pray will be fashionable. Needless to say I was meandering about my morning tasks to put it off as late as possible.

I tugged on the fish that the turtle was munching at with detachment and he tugged back. Why was Chase following such a strict dating regime any way? Were we dating? Was this just simply the best way to go about getting to know me? I didn't get it. It seemed too scripted for him. Surely there was a mastermind behind the plot directing him. The idea made me feel a bit ill; I didn't want anyone else getting daily updates on my damaged psyche.

The turtle got fed up with my toying and was turning away slowly. I felt hurt to see the back of it, more than I should have for a well-fed turtle wandering away from its teasing master, so that I wondered where the true feeling originated from. However I didn't have time to reflect on it. I brushed myself off and began my walk into town.

Since it was Sunday there were many other people moving about their holiday business. Anissa, Jin's young wife, waved smoothly at me with a modest smile. She was lovely and flowing of cloth and hair; perfect symmetry for the respectable sleek doctor I had to admit. Although it still stung to do so. Also, Cathy, on her way to the blacksmiths for a not-so-secret catch ups with childhood friend Owen, strode past me with purpose. I was still looking for something extra to delay my appointment at the seamstress's, when I spotted Gill heading in my direction. Bingo.

I waved far too enthusiastically so that he turned pink and the corners of his mouth drooped even more noticeably that usual in a stern expression of annoyance.

"Angela." He bobbed his head by way of greeting as I fell into step beside him.

"Gill." I mocked his tone, "What a lovely day for a walk, may I join you?" I threaded my hands behind my back and tried to stroll naturally like this.

"I'm only going to the church, but the path is free to everyone." His manner was only a little biting.

"What do you actually do in the Church," I asked. Rather abruptly I suppose, since he looked quite startled.

"Don't you normally pray?" he replied with a question.

I shook my head "But you don't pray." He was always glancing through the stained-glass, or checking his notebook to scribble a few words. He never sat in the pews with that sense of peace or deep concentration that prayer brings.

His icy blue eyes were watching me warily, "I didn't realize you were so observant." He ran a hand through his hair by way of habit, "You're right. I don't pray. As a child my mother used to take me to the church on Sundays to do so, but I never fell into the practice while she was around. I visit to remember," He added softly as if he would be grateful that I didn't hear, "and to write sometimes."

"Mm." I acknowledged without prying any further. I liked the idea that Gill kept all this thoughts carefully bound at his side through the day. Maybe he wrote fiction, maybe he recorded gossip, maybe he was still simply researching the legend of the harvest sprites in case he could help me; it didn't really matter. It was something I felt intensely that I shouldn't scorn.

"Do you pray?" He asked casually.

"I might afterwards." I grinned at him without unmasking the strange emotions that came with the topic, "feels weird to pray to a Goddess that's basically praying to me at the moment." I looked back towards the approaching church on the hill. "We don't even know if she can hear it right now." Once again I was soothed to talk openly like this with someone. Gill certainly wasn't the friendliest but he wasn't ashamed to discuss otherworldly things with me whenever or wherever I wanted.

"I think she's listening." His cheeks were still faintly pink, even as his eyebrows gathered and the icy depths beneath them stared indifferently ahead.

The sweetness behind his offhandedly delivered sentiment sent me giddy; as if the Goddess herself was delighted with his declaration. My seriousness forgotten, I clapped him on the back roughly so that he stumbled in surprise, "Yeah! I think you're right! At least she has one loyal follower to return for! Make sure to add me to your prayers, okay?" I started back in the other direction, aware that Gill had stopped his ascent and was watching me depart with mystification, so I blew him a kiss and laughed when his face burst into redness.

My appointment with Luna went fairly well and without difficulty. Until she got me with a pin that buried an inch deep into my luscious thigh, I swear. Well, I swore. Loudly. Candace rushed away to the kitchen and Shelly pacified me and my injury with a bandage.

But other than that, without hitch.

I stood, in front of the mirror in all of my scullery-maid-to-princess glory, turning the leaves of my dress this way and that. It was a merry shade of rose with a bodice that flattered my less than extravagant endowments suitably. Luna gave herself a much deserved pat on the back, "am I good or what."

Candace had returned for compliments as well, "… very b-beautiful."

Shelly doted on Luna as her next-in-line for the business, "Exquisite stitching."

Luna hugged her sister, "Candace did most of it," making them a dressmaking duo to be reckoned with. My thanks and babbled excitement was copious from the dressing room as I changed back into my regular clothes delicately.

Chase was waiting outside, "Hey." He waved, "we're on a strict schedule you know? The last boat is leaving in ten minutes." Despite this he didn't seem that ruffled, if anything he was a little despondent.

Somehow I noticed Chase's mood before a more important realization hit me belatedly, "Last boat? This is an overnight trip? I haven't got any of my things! I haven't booked a room; you definitely did not mention this before!" The bag full of dress bounced in my hand as I fretted excessively.

"Relax," He exhaled, "Selena sorted rooms for us."

So the flowers were Maya's idea and the fancy wine and dine was Selena's? He seemed much more composed with the flowers. At least he specified 'rooms' although after last time he'd made his position on us pretty clear. "Okay, but I still don't have any of my stuff, and so help me god, Chase, if you suddenly show me a packed suitcase like some sort of Casanova I will hit you with it."

He held up empty hands both to show that he didn't and to entreat that I calm down. A little smile was forming that told me he was beginning to enjoy this, "You have your dress." He gestured to the bag. "I have a clean shirt. We're all set." He pulled me in the direction of the boat.

"What about toothbrushes…pajamas…hygienic supplies!" I was fighting down the blush that was rising with my embarrassment.

"I'm sure they'll have all that stuff there…and pajamas?" He quirked an eyebrow at me not suggestively but playfully, "I don't need them."

We boarded the boat hand-in-hand and situated ourselves at the bow. Pascal winked at me in a way that an uncle might their niece holding hands with their first crush. It sent me further spiraling into mortification. In fact the more discomfited I grew the more Chase seemed pleased with himself.

Excuse me for still wearing pajamas.


	4. Date

_**Date**_

_some development for Valentines_

* * *

Toucan Island was much hotter than I was prepared for. Autumn had put me in cozy-mode in which I was greatly appreciative of an extra blanket or a cup of hot cocoa. It's really no wonder that Selena had trouble acclimatizing to our seasons. Upon landing I instantly felt out of place and sweaty in my long sleeves and jeans and found myself truly respecting that Chase wore sandals 24/7. Said companion actually looked quite happy in the heat of dimming sunset. He merely pulled another button open at his collar and slipped his toes free to walk barefoot in the sand.

"This might be better than I thought." He glanced over his shoulder at me with the scattered sunlight flickering through his strawberry hair and making his violet eyes even more striking than usual. He really could give the Harvest Goddess a run for her money in terms of beauty some times. My heart stuttered approvingly while inwardly I cursed myself for being so plain.

"I'm relieved to hear you were so looking forward to it." I grumbled in reply.

He laughed freely, his eyes crinkling until they were nearly closed while his head bowed, "You're so dishonest. Are you going to say that you were?"

I pressed my lips firmly shut in a line and refused to answer; whether he was getting to know me better or not he certainly was keen at detecting my mood. Instead of letting him seize this little victory I put forward, somewhat sullenly, "Since you're the one that proposed the whole thing it should be you getting the satisfaction out of it."

There was a split-second of silence while he blinked at me. "One step at a time." He said ambiguously, letting nothing slip into his expression for my benefit. It felt like I was back at the beginning, so I sighed and slumped visibly not caring if he saw. I was about to lament when his hand found mine again and his eyes drew me in, "First thing's first, lets get you into that dress." For someone who appeared to have zero sexual impulses, Chase sure could spin a line to send a girl's pulse racing.

We were greeted warmly at the inn by who I assumed was Selena's parents; she definitely took after her mother by way of looks, but a lot of her fiery personality seem borrowed from her jovial father. After a short tour of amenities we were led to our rooms: two singles that shared a wall facing the lagoon and the setting sun. The dissipating sunshine and merry colors of the décor were gradually beginning to convince me that I could be happy here, so much so that I was toying with the idea of an early retirement and relocation. Unfortunately I'd probably only be thirty by the time my measly savings expired.

I gracefully declined Chase's teasing that I might need help zipping up and confined myself in my room. The walls must have been very thin since I could still hear the ocean lapping softly. I could also still hear Chase who spoke kindly to the inn owners before his own door shut. This was followed by what my wild imagination could only interpret as the light sounds of clothing being shed and dropped carelessly. In the mirror my face was a match for my dress. And yes, I really did have trouble zipping it.

There was nothing to be done for my hair. It had gone quite limp in rare exposure to such humidity so I ruffled it a little and gave my reflection one final shrug. Outside my suitor was waiting. In the absence of the apron and wrinkled work shirt he actually managed to look more striking than usual; just in a fresher sort of way. This Chase was all smooth edges, clean and crisp and smiling brightly. He was even wearing some sort of casual blazer. I must have gawked. We were like paupers hiding in the guise of royalty. We laughed in unison and it made me blush again.

"You look weird," I teased.

"I was going for weird. You, on the other hand, look spectacular." Damn him for managing to be suave while I struggled to keep my tongue in my mouth.

I tugged at a handful of hopelessly limp hair and replied dryly, "Sure, and I was going for spectacular."

Again with that sweet bell-chime laughter too pretty for a boy he said, "I can fix that." He plucked a flower from his pristinely ironed buttonhole that I hadn't even noticed was there and tucked it behind my ear in one swift movement. "There. Now you really look on-location."

Something deep in my chest pinged; I was suspended between pain and indescribable happiness so that all that remained was a hollow ache. He seemed to be saving my life with flowers.

"Well then. Dinner's up," he straightened. The movement looked severe, but maybe that was my imagination. I was more concerned on the aching weight that had taken up residence between my lungs and diaphragm. Suddenly, more than anything, I wanted to hear him say my name. His eyes were still on me expectantly, whether that was because he was taking the part of gentleman very seriously and still practicing the ladies-first rule or because he could tell I was inwardly struggling with something I don't know. I never knew. But at this very second I lacked the courage to say anything at all.

When I made a move he offered his arm.

Dinner was no better. The food was scrumptious but the feeling in my gut made everything sway restlessly. I was beginning to worry that I'd forever put Chase off dinner dates by puking on his shoes.

"Are you alright?" His eyes were cloudy with concern but beneath that was the eager curiosity he'd shown before.

"Maybe I'm allergic to flowers." I swear that was meant to be a joke, but it came out bitter and accusing. All at once I was at odds with myself; wanting to swallow the comment back down into oblivion and also wanting to see he would react. The latter won. His gaze went from confused to heated, so that I instantly felt ashamed.

"Sorry." But the apology was barbed. "Take that out, you'll feel better." He leaned across the small table to remove the flower from my hair but I dodged his hand. His eyebrows furrowed, "Angela."

I shivered; finally satisfied to fulfill that little need in me, even if I'd done it by making him angry. "Maybe it's the food." He tried again to snatch the bloom from me, "I don't like the food here."

"The food is fine, Angela. What is wrong with you?" So blunt; that stung. The champagne flutes on our table rattled as we avoided each others grasp. The feeling in my gut was rising, heightening in intensity.

"I don't like the food, Chase!" I startled myself by shouting, using his name like a weapon, "It's not yours!"

He stopped trying to wrest the flower from me and became wide-eyed and still. I would have appreciated the view more but by then my stomach was churning so rapidly that I just barely managed to turn away from him before I tossed the feeling all over the inn's fancy tiling.

* * *

I awoke to the sound of the waves again. There was a cool dampness on my forehead that reminded me exactly how I got here. I pulled it away and turned my head to Chase who was slouched on a chair near my bedside with elbows on knees and fingers threaded against his mouth. Even in the dark I could see the sparks behind his eyes.

My mouth was rancid and dry, "M'sorry."

He directed his gaze to the floor. "Heatstroke. Only an idiot can get heatstroke in half a day. Not even the hottest half… How dehydrated do you have to be…" He cut himself short with a sigh and a sweep of his hand through his loosely clipped hair.

Although I was glad to hear that I hadn't simply lost my mind during dinner, I ignored all that and grabbed a hold of his sleeve. "I'm sorry."

His gaze was heavily lidded with annoyance, violet flickering in the gloom. The blazer was slung over the back of his chair, and his crisp dinner shirt had been rolled up at the elbows and creased, collar askew. Just like normal. I smiled to him and his annoyance melted somewhat.

Finally he laughed humorlessly and said, "Don't be. My playing pretend didn't work. We were both hopelessly out of our depth. I even ripped your dress bringing you back here." I checked that he was right. The seam at my waist had torn from the fine leaves of transparency creating a split that ran from my right side to the middle of my back. My fingers touched underwear. "But I guess I got to hear something interesting."

My memory needed a windup key to work; fainting can do that to a person. Thankfully he didn't leave me wondering for long.

"Next time, I'll just cook." His grin was radiant.

* * *

The following day we were back to ourselves. I didn't want to spend much more time in the sun since I really didn't want a relapse but the boat wouldn't arrive until noon and Chase convinced me that I'd be alright by stuffing an overly broad fisherman's hat over my head and leading me to the beach where he'd set up lounge chairs and an umbrella. He then took great satisfaction in plastering my face with sunscreen so that I could see the white reflection of it when the light bounced. I was benevolent in putting up with the treatment however since he seemed much happier today. And I swore I wouldn't let him see me barf twice.

I was left at the chairs while he waded in the shallows. Honesty I was quite glad to be given the breathing space since he remained so watchful after my episode last night. Chase had rolled up the hem of his trousers and donned his black work shirt again, which hung unbuttoned and loose around his broad shoulders while I was currently engulfed in the one he'd worn last night. It was much lighter than my sweater and therefore cooler and he insisted that I wear it.

A few yards away he had found a couple of prickly sea urchins and gestured at me. Could I eat something that looked like it wanted to kill me? If Chase cooked it I probably could. His smile as he industriously weighed his find was catching.

That night I changed the water in my numerous vases of colored flowers, removed some of the more sorry looking blossoms and breathed their scent in deeply. It was the same smell from the dress shirt that I had borrowed. I retrieved it from my bedroom and thought to bring it back to him, but instead I pressed it to my cheek. Like this the flower-scent was all-encompassing. Gentle and inviting. Like Chase, running hot and cold with it: sometimes there, sometimes hidden so that I'd have to search for it. I held the fabric as tightly as I could.

What I had found I never wanted to return.


	5. Routine

_**Routine**_

_I wrote this almost directly after the last chapter so it's a very fast update... work is slow, or I am lazy at work :/_

* * *

The seasons changed and winter fell. Considering my mood, autumn had actually been fairly profitable so I allowed myself lazy mornings and early bedtimes. The animal produce was enough to carry me through but I had been waiting for winter to find some rare rainbow ingredients and couldn't slack off too much. Since I had always been so honest with Gill he knew very well to pass me a friendly reminder now and again. Today it was via telephone.

"Are you even out of bed yet?" his voice crackled.

"Yes." I lied; my feet were still curled in the warmth of my feather duvet while my upper-half was resting awkwardly on the floor where I had fallen trying to reach the phone.

"Come to the inn for some lunch, then get a move on." He hung up. Gill really was a charmer. I would steal his notebook and read his secret poetry to the whole square one day.

My teeth chattered as I numbly pulled on my clothes and turned the stove up to ward off the chill. I checked the clock: it was already past one. It was late even by my standards, but at least this meant that I could have my dinner with Gill and see a certain apprentice chef at the same time. I tugged a wool cap over my bed-mess of hair and headed into town.

At the inn I was greeted with the matching server's smiles of Maya and Cathy, when they saw that it was me they left me to sit at my usual spot; Maya stumbling away to clean elsewhere and Cathy moving behind the bar with a wink. Gill was already waiting.

"You are surprisingly punctual." He had a stack of papers with him that he moved aside for me.

"Pft, of course. I told you I was awake." Please don't make me take off my hat. I made myself comfortable looking at the specials. Cathy set down tomato juice for Gill and milk tea for me; wonderful, intuitive Cathy. We placed our orders and got down to business. "This is my fourth day trying to catch saury… you have no idea how cold and miserable it is out there."

He sipped at his drink slowly before replying, "The Goddess chose you for your indomitable nature, I'm sure you'll manage."

That sent me reeling, "Wow. That was practically a compliment." I was grinning stupidly. When Gill caught view of it he sputtered on the juice and flushed.

He spoke again but it was muttered and disjointed, "W-Well, I think that what you are doing is very noble..aid to us all...and the island...even when, at least I-" A hand clapped down on the table that made us both jump.

"Real sorry about this but we're all out of tomato." Chase stood next to me, wearing his smile that falsely pulled at the corners of his mouth but appeared overtly friendly at first glance.

"Morning," I beamed at him.

"It's afternoon." He beamed back. What is it with these overly direct guys I chose as company?

Gill cleared his throat, "Ah, okay, I'll have the omlette."

"Nice choice. A simple classic." Chase said, although it still sounded forced. He moved to leave but turned back to me, "Don't work too hard today. I'll be over for dinner at six." And with that he swung his dishtowel over his shoulder and disappeared into the kitchen once more.

The remaining direct guy, Gill, was bemused, "dinner?"

"Hm" I fingered my teacup, "He's taken to cooking for me most nights during his break."

"So are you two…" His blue eyes were calculating.

"Oh…no." my lips curled weakly and I took a drink, "We're friends." Even as I spoke it sounded empty. Ringing in my ears like another blatant lie. But as much as I felt that, that's all we were. Gill allowed the topic to drop, although continued to look faintly suspicious, and I caught him glancing in the direction that Chase had left more than once. I maybe naïve about some things, but I swear there was electricity in the air. Was it jealousy? The idea baffled me.

Once our meals arrived I focused instead on the taste; I had formed quite a palate. Yolanda's cooking was refined in every way. It could be just like your mother made it or something you wouldn't be surprised to find in a 5-star restaurant abroad. But I was spoiled. Thanks to my evenings with Chase I had found a quality in food that separated something I enjoyed eating from something I craved to eat; personality. Maybe I was being too harsh on Yolanda, or maybe she'd been in the job for too long, but her recipes were tried, tested and true; they contained little feeling.

Gill must have noticed my pickiness, since he lowered his fork and said, "Is it no good?"

I remembered our evening at the Pineapple Inn. "No, it's good. It's just not my favourite."

He eyed me doubtfully. Okay, I deserved that. That definitely wasn't natural.

We finished our meals and I hurried to my task. Gill was glad to see the back of me since that had been his task from the beginning. He mentioned plans of building a proper school after I finished reviving the tree, and I patted him on the shoulder respectfully. Although even just that agitated him.

I used the rainbow to Gull Island, cast my line, and huddled inside my coat to wait. I would have actually paid to have Toby napping nearby it was so lonely. From here you could hardly see the lights of town let alone hear any sign of life. The snow fell quiet and thick and made my ears feel full to bursting with the silence. So to break the spell I sang.

Two haddock, an octopus, and an old boot later I had to head back or be late for dinner. It was probably the bad singing that put the saury off today; maybe tomorrow I'd manage to keep my mouth shut.

Using the rainbow was a bit like walking through a beam of sunlight: hot and sleepy and weightless. I had the habit of closing my eyes each time I did. It was like the colors passed right through me.

"…Angela?" My eyes flew open. I knew that voice very well.

"Chase…I thought you'd be at my place by now." I felt a shiver thrill and it wasn't from the cold.

"I was posting a letter." He squinted at me, "were you there the whole time?" I suppose the likely story would be that I was sitting under Daren's tree on the edge of town in the dark and hadn't said anything as he passed. A little creepy, but a more passable story than riding a rainbow to and fro.

"Yep. Just passing the time…" I swung from my heels to the balls of my feet, bobbing gently. "I caught something for dinner though!" I presented him with my string of fish distractingly.

To my great relief he chuckled softly, "Sashimi it is then." He took the fish from me and after a moment's solemnity took my hand as well. "These are terrible quality, but if the princess wishes it..."

"She does." A princess I was not, but his hand was warm and welcome. We strode home in companionable silence. The snow still fell thickly so that the only sounds were our footsteps but this time it didn't bother me so much.

Poor quality or not, after my stomach was filled I was too contented to move. I fell back into my battered leather sofa and swore never to leave it. Rather than return to the inn, Chase had got the night off and was currently in the kitchenette making tea. I got the usual vague answer when I enquired why.

A shrug of the shoulder that made his hair bounce, "I'm tired today."

"So instead you do basically the same thing you'd be doing at work here for me instead?" I scoffed, "That makes no sense. Let me cook tomorrow."

He thought about this for a long time, straining the tea leaves. "Alright." He had agreed but my stomach flipped; my best dish was eggs, sunny-side or scrambled depending on how well I cracked them. It wasn't very impressive. He passed my cup as he sat down beside me and smiled, "I'm looking forward to it."

"Honestly?" I wrinkled my nose.

"Well that look doesn't fill me with confidence" He poked my forehead and I giggled like a school girl. "But so long as it's not poisonous, I would like to try your cooking."

We settled into the easy creases of the worn leather and sipped our tea, my wood burning stove puffing heat in little happy clouds at the other side of the room. By routine, I was already feeling drowsy.

"Angela."

"Mm?"

"Are you interested in Gill?"

So forthright, completely disregarding the mood and not even working up towards the point. But I had grown to field this type of questioning calmly. "Where do you get that idea…"

"What were you talking about today." It was less a question and more a statement of fact. What he was really saying was that he'd overheard.

"…Fish." It wasn't a lie exactly. It was just hugely oversimplifying the thing.

"Did you visit him again at the Hall?" There was a light in his eyes I hadn't seen before. He was anxious, maybe even scared and that scared me.

"N-No… I was fishing." I gripped my tea, wishing that my hands were free so that I could throw my arms around him and tell him the whole truth finally, until there was nothing left unsaid. But this was Chase. Chase was firmly situated in the real world while I was caught up in some fairytale that even the oldest residents of the island were beginning to doubt.

He had moved closer during his eagerness for my answers, I could track his eyes as they flicked over my face. The intensity made me go warm. He fell back into place and exhaled at length. I released the tension in my shoulders I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"Sorry," He began again halfheartedly. "I really must be tired."

I set down my mug and knelt next to him, saying his name barely above a whisper. Violet refocused on me as he deliberated. He gave a short laugh that I hated to hear; derisive and pained. My palms and knees were pressing into the leather as I urged him wordlessly to be honest and frank now, while it really mattered.

"I said that I'd find you." He swallowed, looking so young, "but right now I feel so lost."

This time I didn't hesitate. I trapped him in my arms so fast I nearly got his tea down the back of my neck. He didn't return the embrace but he also didn't struggle away from me so I took this as a good sign. Every sentence I tried to form in reassurance sounded like a cheesy line from a crappy romance novel so instead I opted for silence and nuzzled my cheek against his collar, my forehead butting against his chin.

In time he set aside his cup, he relaxed in my hold, and his head even dropped to rest against the top of mine. I rose and fell alongside his chest with every breath.

When he spoke again my heart was so full with bliss that it caught me drifting between sleep, "Why is it?" I snuggled even closer, "I wasn't prepared for this."

In a dream, Chase covered me with a rainbow that felt suspiciously scratchy like the old wool blanket I kept at the end of my bed. The goddess was smiling for once, her light dim but heartbreakingly beautiful like a butterfly batting its wings inside a glass jar awaiting release. This time she didn't try to speak. Chase traced a finger across my brow, through my hair and finally down my cheek. Bathing in the warmth of the goddess's light, and Chase's careful scrutiny I was floating.

Something sweet and warm was pressed softly to my mouth. So sweet and warm and familiar that the feeling lingered with me through the night and the sky burst into colors.


	6. Distance

_**Distance**_

_A/N: cue side-characters and awkward intervention._

* * *

Chase never showed up the next day for eggs a la Angela. In fact it's been a week since he's cooked for me at all.

I believe there is an article in the book of life for _'one step forward two steps back'_ with a citation to our story. I've completely made that up, but if it truly did exist the idea is so likely it's frightening.

So after the disappearance of my erstwhile dinner maid I occupied myself with the limited farm work and my divine task without too much gloominess. After all this was Chase; he worked in mysterious ways. In another week he might need me to drag his sorry carcass into action but for now I was waiting. I didn't quite understand the demons he was battling with any way. In my mind it had become quite simple.

In terms of human interaction, at least Chase's period of leave didn't leave any permanent emotional scars; I took to meeting up with Renee who was sweet and wacky and shared my sense of humor, and I even saw fruition in my promised race with Luke. Although, as suspected Ruth was less than impressed and even Owen couldn't see the fun in it.

There was Gill too. If Chase was night, then Gill was day. Chase wore a mask of affability and smiles that hid a deeper disquiet while Gill was openly pompous and rude, frowning as I appeared but offering numerous veiled reassurances. He was unafraid of showing special consideration on my behalf. Sure, he still shied if I in return was gracious, and I knew it was mostly because in his own way he was fighting for the island too, but it didn't fail to effect me. I found great comfort in his friendship.

"Angie? You've been spacing out for nearly an hour now. I've gotta get back to the farm." Renee wiggled her fingers in my vision. I literally shook myself from my reverie.

"Don't call me that, Ren." I smirked, knowing she hated her nickname just as much; we sounded like two old spinsters. "Sorry, I was thinking." We both reeled in; the fishing had been disappointing at the falls today. Only Toby managed to catch anything, and he'd been asleep during the bite.

"Don't worry so much." She chirped brightly.

"How do you know I'm worrying? I only said thinking," I quipped.

A dainty finger prodded the surface between my eyebrows and I squeaked. "Wrinkles." Renee's smile lit up her face like a sunrise and she said, "Your face is like a book. You're as easy to read my chickens."

"I could maybe be happy with the book part; surprised but happy. But don't liken me to a chicken," I pouted and gave her my best lip-wobble.

She replied without hesitation, "Chickens are very noble animals," and we shared in the bountiful giggles of farm girls and Toby stirred beneath his tree.

"If it's you Angie, it'll be okay," I saw Renee off with a smile and threw a goodbye in the direction of the dozing fisherman. I wasn't so sure I could trust Renee's encouragement, however well intended. If I was specially blessed then I wouldn't be at stuck in such a standstill. I still had to catch that saury; a fish that was fast becoming the bane of my life.

Perhaps some dinner might revitalize me for the task. And a small peek wouldn't hurt.

I all but ran into town and sat at my usual table in the inn puffing. From my seat I could catch a glimpse of wispy peach hair and autumn colored apron from the kitchen as he bustled. I might even be able to catch his eye and wave. Just from this my heart beats were mounting and little butterflies coiled tightly in my belly; I wonder when my feelings had become so unruly. Maybe ever since I discerned there was a chance he might reciprocate.

Both Cathy and Maya descended upon me at once and spoke over each other.

"Enjoying the view?" that was Cathy, good-naturedly.

"What have you done to Chase!" was Maya, her voice all high pitched and accusing like a child's. The older blonde patted the younger on the head to soothe her outburst and her braids bobbed.

"Sorry Angela, Maya's just a little concerned."

Maya's eyes were big and watery as she looked at the floor dejectedly, "He hasn't been coming in early. He won't cook for me any more. He even refused to try my cake this morning." Cathy shot me a look that said that it was doubtful I was the reason behind the refusal and I shrugged it off. "He seems so sad."

"He's smiling though," Cathy said, "it's creepy."

He was troubled this much? I was at a loss for words but Maya filled the blank I left, "He likes you, can't you fix it?"

From a nearby table there was an extravagant yawn that caught our attention. It was Selena, stretching, her luxurious red hair slipping free from its binding after a day's worth of dance. In her exotic emerald garb it was surprising I didn't clock her there earlier. "Lovers spat. Just kiss and make up." She turned lazy-lidded eyes on us. I tried to contain the heat that threatened to flood my face. "Besides, you're all talking like he can't hear you." She thumbed over her shoulder at the bar.

Chase was there, leaning forward on his elbows and looking a kitchen god, all laden with food smells, hair untidy and apron dusty with flour. Only his expression didn't match; it was stiff and lackluster. How much frustration lay underneath no one could tell.

Maya gasped animatedly at me, "You and Chase?" I wanted to go and bury my head in the snow. Cathy looked embarrassed and hurriedly skirted away to resume her dish duty. Selena sipped smugly at her drink.

I finally managed to find my tongue and waved lamely at him, "Hi Chase." But he turned away and ignored me.

* * *

After all that my meal went down like a cup of sick. I fretted nervously every time there was a stir in the kitchen; which was a lot considering they were efficiently serving through the night. Although I had decided that I would hang around until I could talk to Chase in private, in the end the anxiety got to me and I bolted. I ran and hit rainbow and then ran some more.

Wouldn't you know it; I caught the saury that night. I dropped backwards into the snow with relief, feeling the wet and cold slowly seep into my clothes and soak the hair that stuck out from the bottom of my wool hat. It was uncomfortable. I'd probably look like I'd done a backstroke through the shallow waters, but I was too accomplished to care. If the goddess had any power over it I imagined she was taking pity on me.

It was late by the time I was making my way home.

There's something about the dark that makes a person lose a grip of them self; insecurities, fears, and memories all become louder. Some people are consoled, others surrender. Especially in the winter when the snow blankets all the living thriving greenness I love do I become agitated. So it was probably a bad time to meet him again.

Even though the moon's position suggested we were in the wee hours, he was stood just outside of town scuffing a sandal against the ice. His toes must be about to drop off.

"Chase?" I made no move nearer.

His neck snapped towards me and yet again I was met with that hard unyielding stare somewhere between boredom and annoyance. His lips moved but only a light _oh_ sound came out.

"Earlier…" I began, not wanting to waste an apology but also knowing one needed said for what had conspired.

"I don't really care." He cut me off. Not cruelly, just with a shrug of his shoulder as he tilted his chin and gazed at the cloudy stars instead of at me.

"How come you've given up on dinner? Was the idea of my cooking too scary in the end?" I couldn't stop the question. My heart gave a pitter-patter once it was out and I realized I was dreading the answer, so I laughed at my little joke hoping to cover up for the fact. It rang hollowly in the evening.

His eyes came back to me slowly and there was a flicker, but it didn't remain long enough for me to read it. "I'm tired of tasting right now, of having my cooking made such a big deal out of."

I ignored the fact that it was him that took up the mettle to cook for me in the first place and instead tried to appease him with agreement, "Who's making a big deal? We eat and we cook because we have to, right?" He was impassive. "Let's do something else then…" my mind was scrabbling desperately for ideas, "There's a festival coming up I think?" I still wasn't clear on my island holidays but I could always count on some kind of activity in the near future. This meant I wasn't so good at planning ahead but so far I'd just counted my blessings.

"It's not for weeks yet." His words were sharp as they shot me down but his features had gentled somewhat; there may have been the ghost of a true smile for a moment. "I don't think I'll be going to that one."

"Why not?" the chill of my wet clothing was beginning to tell; I was shaking.

There was a near unbearable pregnant pause. "I've got to get home. You too, Angela. You'll catch cold." He reached out and for a second I was sure he'd embrace me. His eyes told me he wanted to. Instead I got an awkwardly heavy pat on the shoulder and he left.

The lamplight from the streets glowed dully that I was alone. Snow had begun to fall again. I don't know how long I watched the direction in which he'd left; I felt as though I'd been dreaming only to wake up and realize every detail was real. My feet moved and my arms tried to stave of the cold by folding around me.

I tried to comfort myself with the truth that Chase could be a harsh mood-swing of a man and tomorrow he might bring me flowers again but it wasn't enough; I was too angry. Sense might pervade later but right now I felt deceived; a toy, expendable. My imagination failed to come up with means by way of explanation and he refused to give me any.

It's not like I was a malicious person. Chase had made it quite apparent that he was uneasy and Chase had my heart whether he liked it or not. But as tears began to tumble clumsily down my face and drip from my nose and I wiped uselessly at them, I knew I needed a friend. After all, my feet had already carried me here.

I banged on the door and prayed for his face, hoping like heck it wouldn't be his father to answer. The echo of noise in the barren streets made me tense as though the whole town could hear the guilty call of it.

For the second time today it was as though the goddess was listening and my prayers were answered. He appeared groggy and face contorted with exasperation but it all fell away the moment he focused on me there, "Angela?" his voice was full to bursting with incredulity.

"Gill," I whimpered pathetically, hating the sound, but I managed to blubber the rest out, "Please let me in, I'm so confused."

I was soaked, in tears, and I'd probably just spoken the words of every misguided heroine in history, but I couldn't stop. When Gill pulled me inside I hugged him roughly and sobbed every little feeling I'd been bottling for weeks.

We hurt each other and we hurt ourselves, in the dark on cold winter's nights.

* * *

_A/N: OH what an angsty one-liner. This was very difficult. Chase kept coming out really horrible and nasty and I hated it. He's got his reasons; I really didn't want to be damning him alone at the end of this chapter so I hope I've managed to make them both as bad as each other._

_I really like how the girls came out in the inn-scene. Despite being a chase-fangirl, I don't despise Maya, Kathy is cool, and Selena is plucky._


	7. Gravity

__

**Gravity**

* * *

Time is a man-made concept; we are awake by first light and asleep when the sun abandons us. Therefore to divide reality by one entire cycle of this- a day- seems the most logical. But when you remove the concept there is only memories and lingering sentiments from events interspersed inconsequentially through life. "Yesterday" seemed so different from "today." Yesterday, I was trapped in a snowy bubble of heartbreak. Today I was sat at the mayor's table with a cup of black coffee as my long time friend Gill made toast behind me. Yesterday seemed eons ago and yet so raw and fresh in my chest.

The sound of the toaster pop made me jump; we were alone, so it was the only sound apart from a crackly old radio sat on the windowsill. "I can't believe you kicked Hamilton out." I said, watching the dark reflection of myself in my cup tremble.

Gill set buttery toast in front of me and sat adjacent, taking a drink from his own mug at the same time. "Someone has to open the office," he unfolded today's paper and skimmed the headlines before speaking again. "And I'm a bit indisposed today thanks to someone."

I frowned over a mouthful of crumbs, "I can take care of myself."

He continued to read, "That's a bold statement."

"I'm an adult."

"You were bawling so hard last night that your nose dripped on me."

I promptly moved my plate and thumped my head on the table. "Here we go… I knew you'd use some sort of detail against me. It could have been left unsaid but nooo, Gill wants fuel for the fire…"

"On a scale of 1 to 10 how embarrassing is this information? Your answer will allow me to rate it on its usefulness."

"Con-artist." I rebuked, but smiled to myself.

Thanks to my little romp in the winter wonderland last night, by the time I had finished washing Gill in my sorrows I was near-hypothermic and both he and his father, who had been roused, refused to let me leave. I was given strict orders to bathe, dress in some of Hamilton's departed wife's old clothing as mine dried, and rest. Apparently I had a rather weak constitution that was susceptible to extreme temperatures. Once I had come back to sense I was mortified but grateful; it had been a long time since I had enjoyed a family's level of concern.

As if reading my mind at the same rate his eyes flicked over the news Gill stated, "I'd rather you took it easy than dove right back into it again today."

"But, but" there were too many buts; however the most important one should be something he could agree with, "I've finally got enough ingredients for Collin." Needless to say, I was not only excited by the prospect of being one step closer to the goddess but the temptation of a rainbow that could transport me to some place new was also thrilling. My curiosity was vast.

Gill merely shook his head, his cobalt eyes locking on me penetratingly. "One more day won't kill anyone."

He left little room for argument; not even a comedy jaw-drop since he had always been the more driven of us both. I sealed away my rejoinder with another drink of lukewarm coffee before wrinkling my nose in disgust and refreshing my cup from the carafe. An old classic of a woman crooning reflectively for her late lover poured from the radio speakers as Gill once again became engrossed in his reading.

I wondered briefly how he felt seeing me disheveled, pale and sick looking in his mother's clothing. The thought made me push out of my chair roughly.

"I'm going to get going." I crossed my arms over my chest in the best attempt to hide as much of the floral material as possible and quickly crossed into the living room to collect my clothes from the hearth.

Gill appeared again in the doorway. "Come back for dinner."

I paused amid my arms dripping with garments. I had been nervous about this; I felt like my stomach was full of stone. I didn't like refusing him but I was anxious that he might want more from me than I could give right now. "I don't know."

"Dad would like to make sure you're all right. Me too." I continued to study him tentatively and that was probably what sent him back into evangelist-mode. His eyes became hard again, "It's as simple as this: dinner with us or I have Jin keep you overnight at the clinic for observation."

If my hands had been free I would have held them up in mercy. "Okay, okay. Don't go all military on me! I'll be here." The image of Gill in uniform was too much. I laughed raucously and my clothes spilled from my arms.

* * *

It was nearing noon when I made my way out of Hamilton's home. That meant that my hasty exit was bound to be noted by every attending passerby, small island as it was. I had hoped to avoid this and sneak away like a thief in the night but Nurse Gill was far too vigilant. At least he made good toast. Perhaps I would get lucky and the rumors wouldn't spread_. _The last thing I needed was this highly pertinent information making its way to the ears of Chase.

"Good Morning!"

No. Wait. I was wrong. This is worse.

"Morning Maya…how are you?"

"Much better," She chirped. Her face was bright and sunny with her little-girl-smile and her big round eyes the color of a clear spring day. She leaned close to me and cupped a hand near her mouth as though in preparation for a secret. "Thank you, Angela. Chase seems happy again. This morning we had pancakes." She straightened, and I felt a little shoot of pain spark off in the center of my being; it wasn't jealousy, it wasn't envy, it was basic human hurt.

I had to remind myself though that Maya had no inkling of what had passed between me and Chase so I replied with my greatest imitation of normalcy. It was worryingly convincing even to me. "I'm glad," I copied her smile. "He really was acting strange. Is he working today then?" I couldn't even pinpoint the reason I was asking; I wanted to avoid him if anything.

"Nah, he's got the day off. He said he was going to be trying new recipes at home all day. I hope he brings me some more samples!" That was Maya: an embodiment of the rule '_a way to the heart through the stomach_.' She was in love with Chase in the simplest of ways. I did envy her for that.

"Let me know if they're any good," I started away, lifting a hand in farewell as I went when she answered.

"Don't worry Angela! I'm sure he'll bring you some too!" Her braids were bouncing with her enthusiasm, but somehow I had a hard time believing it.

At home my animals were attention hungry and before I realized it I had spent nearly two hours tending to them. The sky was already getting dim by the time returned from the barns. In the grayness my barren field with its crooked leafless trees looked more desolate and unforgiving than ever. I was truly thankful that tomorrow I would be one step closer to my divine goal even for the tiny happiness that I might grow a bountiful crop without the strict regime of mulching and Souffle's fertilizer.

There was a throat-clearing that sounded loudly across the yard. I dragged my eyes from the earth and towards it.

"Uh, hi." A wave. It was Chase. Even in the shadows and his dark autumn clothing he looked like a drop of sunlight. All milky skin and hair like apricot feathers, weightless and breezing. I quashed any thrill of giddiness that threatened to soar through my stomach.

After letting my silence hang in the space between us he actually managed to look sheepish but a thick "_quack_" cut through any semblance of conversation he was attempting to shape. Tucked restfully under his arm was a duck; I had been focusing so much on his approach that I hadn't even noticed it. Chase seemed thankful of the interruption.

"He's broken his leg I guess, he's got a nasty hobble. I found him outside my house. The rest of the flock has migrated away but he was stuck on the fence." He got the 'he' part right at least, it was a mallard. I moved closer to stroke the feathers on its crest. "I don't know how to take care of ducks or animals in general and I know that you keep chickens so I-"

"Renee would probably be best." The duck seemed to deliberate my affections as I deliberated it. He nipped at the edge of my glove.

"Right. It's just that you were closer and the farm's already closed up for the night."

"There's no profit in keeping one male duck. He'll upset my hens." The mallard gave what one could imagine was a rather morose reply and I ran a finger over the glossy feathers of his collar.

Chase was undeterred, "Come on Angela, he's taken a shine to you already." He hefted the bird once and it gave a weak ruffle.

I couldn't help it. When Chase was as caring and open as I know he can be and especially when he assembled with a talking, waddling prop as cute as this one… I held fast to my hurt, swearing that I would readdress it at a more appropriate time, and I melted; I took the duck in my arms and smiled.

"I'll take care of him."

Violet twinkled as he returned my smile kindly, "He'll need a name."

"I'll name him appropriately." _Distraction. Pity. Forgiveness. Hope_. Maybe just '_Steve_.'

Chase turned to leave and in grabbing his sleeve the mallard's comfortable position in my arms was upset and it flapped in agitation.

"Wait Chase," I held fast to the duck until it calmed, and Chase's eyes found me cautiously. Our gaze met in seriousness and remained there. Could I tell him now? After all I'd already said all there was to say to Gill; I had a surplus of words to use. But something in his expression told me he wasn't ready; I saw it there and felt the familiar pull in my chest, so instead I asked the obvious, "You're cooking again?"

He ran his fingers through a loose section of his hair thoughtfully, and his forehead creased, "Hm. I guess."

I'm not sure why that satisfied me so much, maybe because it meant whatever he had been struggling with was behind him and I might be able to coax him forward again. The amount of relief that blossomed then in my heart was a measure of just how far I'd fallen. I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and directed my gaze at his toes where it couldn't be calculated.

"That's good," I said softly.

"See you tomorrow," He said and I considered it a promise; tomorrow I might understand him a little better. I nodded and he went. This time I didn't watch him go.

* * *

I introduced Steve to the hens and when I checked my watch again I swore and made a beeline for town. I had hoped I might get the chance to see Renee today and sift through some of the tumbleweeds in my head but I'd wasted too much time dragging my feet; Gill was going to incarcerate me if I didn't follow the rules and I was already 15 minutes late.

There was a strange atmosphere tonight. The air seemed to pulse; I could hear nothing and everything. The moon had appeared and disappeared behind a filmy layer of cloud and the gray light that filtered felt thick. My movements felt slow as if beleaguered by an additional degree of gravity and once the sensation had passed it was replaced with the dull thrum of sickness as though I'd been spinning.

I put the uncanny impression down to my ill-health; after all I'm sure Nurse Gill would tell me off for sprinting excitedly after I'd just barely given ole Jack Frost and hypothermia the slip.

As expected, the citizens of the village were all holed up in their homes now and there was no one to see my return to the Mayors house. Only the fair son was present, waiting in the doorway looking cold.

"You're late."

"And sorry," I pleaded with a grin, one hand extended in prayer in front of my nose and the other clutching at my breathlessness in my diaphragm.

Gill's head tilted sideways as he inspected me, "You seem better."

That simple comment made me realize belatedly that Chase hadn't even noticed I was ill. Either the conspicuous gray pallor of my skin had been hidden in the failing light or he hadn't taken the time to tell. "Yeah…" I answered lamely. "But now I'm a little tired."

Gill sighed noisily. "You've ran here haven't you?" His fingers ran down the underside of my upper arm tickling lightly as he pulled me in. "Silly girl."

The room behind him held promises of blazing fire and warm food and I was suddenly very hungry. My knees were weak as he led me through and I was obedient like a good patient; my energy unpredictably drained.

"Gill," I said feebly.

"Yes." He countered evenly.

"Gill…"

"I'm here."

* * *

_A/N: I'm sorry. I lied. I love writing Gill and he has become an integral part of this story. Because yes: I have discovered plot. It seems like I've been heading in the direction of it without even realizing but that's why I hope you'll enjoy the eventual turn-point. It surprised me too._

_... oh and there's this little extra. remove spaces since linking is not allowed..._

_http:/ yuufee. deviantart .com/art/Subject-to-Change-sketchtease-199557294_

_more to come...maybe..._


	8. Tree

_**Tree**_

**

* * *

**

I had that dream again.

The light that she emitted had enough influence to send her hair and the fabric of her dress ebbing and flowing in delicate waves befitting of her oceanic coloring. She was beautiful and she was vivid; more vivid than ever before. I reached my hand out to her, expecting this part to end the dream and I'd be staring at the familiar cracks in my ceiling as I always did, but she was really there. She reached back to me and the space between our fingers rippled.

She spoke but her voice was still too quiet and sadness filled her features. I wanted to tell her it was alright, that everything would be okay, but she was already swaying outside of my vision.

The impression of her lonely eyes the only thing that remained.

* * *

Steve the mallard duck actually got on quite well with my hens. The island was blessed with unseasonably warm sunshine, enough so that I had allowed my animals outside for the day to graze. Steve was pleasantly limping between chickens, quacking by way of greeting and beating his impressive wingspan before moving on to the next; I guess he was something of a ladies man.

I myself was also enjoying the weather. After my chores I sat in the field amongst my livestock and took pleasure in the sensation like the sunlight was sinking deep into my skin and warming my very bones. Rare conditions like this were really invigorating; I decided that it was time to plant some saplings for the new year.

Of course, first thing's first.

I braced my feet firmly in the mess of slushy snow and plugged one ear with a finger. My other hand was occupied by my watering can. Carefully I poured.

"Wah!" that high-pitched wail I had prepared for, "Talk about a cold shower!" Collin the yellow sprite blinked into existence. I'd concluded that this one had way too much time to think up lame jokes while he slumbered. The others just sort of seemed to get on with it.

"Of course it's Angela," he stated as he was brushing himself clean. Although I had just doused him in water he already looked to be perfectly dry and pristine so this was really just for show.

"Of course." I kneeled down to him and smiled. "How are you Collin?"

"I feel as though I've overslept!" _badum-tish._ I watched him critically and he seemed taken aback as always that I didn't provide so much as a courtesy laugh.

That is until he saw the payload I had brought for him this morning. "Th-The ingredients!" his tiny black hands scrabbled to meet them and he gave a sigh once he made contact. "You've really brought them…"

"Was there every any doubt?" I mussed the back of his hat, careful not to accidently hurt him. He remained with his little fingers pressed to the packages but turned back to face me and I could swear that I saw the flicker of tearfulness. My heart sang for it but as soon as it was there it vanished and the joker was revived.

"I always knew you'd come through!"

Without another moment he began to mix. The paper-wrapped packages were suddenly paperless, there was color and there was light, swirling and difficult to grasp. Collins limbs moved with surprising vigor for one of his stature as he chanted the song that made the items into one. As ever, I was in awe at how this ordinary stuff could become something so mysterious, let alone at the hands of a sprite. Watching it only further drove home the knowledge that I really didn't lead an average life and that I alone could understand such things. I couldn't even trust Gill to comprehend. There was a sound like tearing and the work was complete. Before us spanned a rainbow that shot up into the sky and out of view; a stairway to somewhere.

"It's done." he piped. Once again he was patting his attire as though to remove any kicked-up debris. After he finished he plucked something shiny from the base of his flower and moved nearer me. "Use it well!"

The badge was pressed into my open palm and I delighted in the light and ancient feel of it. I nodded to him but he was already fading, waving me off. As I got up to leave my senses were assailed. The wisp-like shadow of him swept past my ear, the warmth of a little hand resting briefly on my cheek. I blinked and he was gone, the yellow bloom dipping its petals in the breeze as though he'd never been.

My eyes were wide; they've never done that before. I was sure I heard the sprite whisper my name. Although the surprise lingered I rationalized that Collin was just especially grateful for his kind, maybe he even had a little sprite-sized crush on me. By now I'd probably proven that I was actually going to finish my task and save the goddess so I supposed it wasn't so strange that the sprites would get a little extra chummy with me.

I willed any suspicion away and travelled the newborn rainbow.

* * *

Nightfall found me back at the bar. I had completely lost track of time and spent the whole day on the new island. I had been so taken with the weather at home but when I touched down on the new island an even more altogether pleasant climate hit me. It was still snowy somehow but the beaches were sparkling and warm, littered with untouched treasures. I felt like I'd stumbled upon my own secret place. It was easy to get carried away there. Still I had somewhat of a schedule to follow.

"Wow. I'm early." I said in disbelief to the empty seats and smooth wooden top of my usual table. The door jingled open behind me and footfalls followed.

"Don't congratulate yourself just yet," drawled my tardy lunch-partner using his uncanny clairvoyance to read my mind.

"Oh how nice of you to show Gill. I was about to order dessert." I allowed a self-satisfied smirk to slip across my lips. He glared back in what can only be described as pure unrivaled abhorrence and dropped a neat stack of books and notes on the previously unencumbered table. Some days I think he only brought so much to make himself look important.

"What's all this." I grabbed a book and sat down, holding it open at one of the flagged pages and skimming the words incoherently. Applications, legislature, code of conduct; the information quickly fled from my skull as I groaned.

"Work." He replied concisely, revealing nothing further and seating himself across from me.

"Why do you always carry this stuff around, doesn't your brain ever need a break? I've heard that reading all day can make your eyeballs drop out." I was attempting to explain such a feat with actions and pulling my lower eyelids down gruesomely but he was already studying the menu.

"I've just come from the office so I haven't been home to drop it off. As if I could ever get anything done in your overwhelming presence."

I was flabbergasted; he definitely used the 'overwhelming' as a negative. Cathy took our orders and hurried to the next customer.

"Fine, then I assume you wouldn't care to hear what I've been up to today." I feigned haughtiness.

"I can guess." He chided gently in response.

Our food came startlingly quick as though it had been expected but knowing the cook as well as I did, it probably was to some degree. Gill continued to be moody with me and left for the men's room halfway through. I peeked towards the kitchen just as Chase hesitated in the doorway. We waved each other over at the same time and I had a short fit of laughter.

"How's the duck?" He asked. He looked good. His expression was easy, his grin not quite true but also not the shadowy replicate that scared all the girls away a few days ago.

"Steve," I corrected with a wink. "He's ruling the roost. The hens are beside themselves." I crossed my arms and continued, "Business is bad, and if I get any strange hybrid-chicks you better believe you'll be paying their way."

He laughed that lovely musical laugh that I felt starved of recently and I shivered for the joy of it. "Not on my salary." He leaned against the door frame, nearly as tall as it was, and stuffed his hands in his pockets affectedly.

I had forgotten how good it was just to keep Chase's company and talk naturally. We could work so well together that it seemed as though every word fell into place. If there was embarrassment there was laughter, if there was nervousness there was comfort. So why had he decided to avoid it?

Chase glanced behind me and his eyes changed. "You'd better go finish you dinner before it goes cold." He moved back toward the kitchen and added, "I made it special."

I snorted, "It's the same as always. I'm a refined gourmet now, you know. I can tell." However I did turn back to the table to do just that. It was true that I was hungry and I didn't want the food to go cold.

Gill had returned and he wasn't bothering to hide the impatience in his face. His dinner lay practically untouched. I tapped the back of his hand in questioning and was successful in gaining his attention but he didn't seem like he was planning on talking much more tonight. I focused instead on eating.

"How can you just…" He surprised me. He sounded edgy; more intense than I can ever remember hearing. My forkful of food felt grainy in my mouth so I swallowed it roughly.

"What?" I managed. His jaw flexed as though he had grit his teeth and his eyes were sharp as they set on me. After a moment he fell back and exhaled. His hand smoothed through the hair that was habitually falling across his forehead and his air became solemn again.

It was so unusual for Gill to clam up that I beginning to worry. "Seriously…what?" I repeated.

Finally his gaze meandered back to me idly. "You really are helpless."

I waited for more and when it never came I protested. "That's all you have to say..?" and I huffed when he gave no further reply. "You're buying tonight." As if there was any doubt that he wouldn't.

Gill did pay and I had gathered his books into my arms, the bar was filling with the regulars looking for a hard drink and a good time and I was eager to get away.

In the midst of the activity Chase was actually working outside of his expertise and clearing dishes. He bumped into me as I tried to squeeze past and the stack of plates in his hands rattled. I yelped an apology and he said, "Careful!" more as a reaction than real advice. When he realized it was me he rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulder as if to suggest this was unsurprising of me, or perhaps more simply _look at the state of this place._ Thanks to the sudden traffic in the bar we were pressed unnervingly close to one another.

It happened before I even had the chance to register. Chase's free hand had drifted through the hair that touched against my jaw line, his expression utterly tender, and was immediately confronted by Gill who stole in front and pulled me by the arm until I was hidden by his back. There wasn't as much height difference between me and Gill as there was between me and Chase but even with this I could no longer see either of their faces. I could just barely hear what was spoken heatedly as I tried to grasp the situation.

"Excuse us, we're leaving." Gill said. It reverberated through his shoulders; his voice as chilly and hard as I knew his eyes would be.

"We just bumped into each other," Chase, trying to sound unruffled as he quickly lost his poise in the face of conflict. "She doesn't belong to you."

"No." Gill's hand tightened around my wrist. "And she doesn't belong to you either."

I was dragged from the warmth and quickly engulfed in the cool night air, the door thumping shut perfunctorily behind us. Gill's grip on my wrist was sore and I yanked myself free. Eventually my tongue also worked itself loose.

"What the hell was that about!" a puff of white steam erupted from my mouth. Gill was already removing his work materials from my arms, his eyes focused intently on the street paving. My mind whirred. I said his name, softer, more gentle than before.

"It doesn't matter."

Instantly my outrage returned, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from shouting. "You didn't have to do that. He wasn't doing anything wrong and I didn't ask for your help-"

"Didn't you?" our eyes met. His eyebrows were furrowed in a way I didn't recognize. I spent too long fumbling for words, trying to make out what the look was trying to tell me, the seconds seemed like an eternity. When I came up short Gill wasn't going to wait any longer and he strode away; his steady shoulders, the ones that had tried to protect me, disappearing into the darkness.

* * *

Sleep was fitful. My mind was plagued and restless; each time I thought I had fallen asleep I'd find myself thinking about what had happened at the inn and realize my eyes were staring holes through the wall. When morning came I felt as though I'd slept on the ground in a bed of stones with Collin the sprite intermittently slapping me awake to tell me the newest pun he'd thought of.

In other words; like crap.

The weather was highly disagreeable to my mood. It was another day of glorious sunshine, a sure sign of spring, but today it would take a little more than that to move me. I set the animals loose in the pasture and sat on the short dirty decking of my home to wind the fine fibers of the silkworm cocoon into thread absentmindedly; the mere action serving to alleviate my turbulent thoughts.

I needed Renee… I needed Gill. And I needed Chase.

Maybe I really was helpless.

I'd set things right again at some point; I'd slap Gill and tell Chase to stop being so fickle. Then maybe I'd run away with Renee and show them I really didn't need men if they were going to be such drama queens.

I was sniggering noisily to myself when it hit me: I'd plant those trees. I don't know why but I suddenly felt it so fervently that I dropped the yarn I'd been making and shot to my feet. I didn't even stop to grab my coat, or saddle the ostrich, I just started running. I'm sure I looked like a great dork when I rode the over-sized chicken any way.

When I burst through the door at Soufflé Farm I gave not only Ruth but also a second customer a scare. Ruth jolted and nearly scattered her flower cuttings all over the floor while the other merely set a glare upon me. I tried to recall all my run-ins with black cats, the times I spilled the salt or walked under a ladder…surely I must be marked. The second customer was none other than Chase. When he saw it was me his glower softened.

"What's the rush for." He simpered amicably, weighing vegetables in either hand.

"Eh. I tripped." I couldn't very well say I was rushing in the heat of the moment; the moment being that I just _had_ to plant something. No, that sounded fanatical. I went to Ruth and enquired about her trees and she in turn passed me a catalog of what they had in stock and what they could order in from the mainland.

I didn't really mind what kind of trees I grew so much as that they would be there for years to come and keep me company as I became old and decrepit on my little rundown farm but I concluded that I should really chose something that I could profit from; fruit bearing trees. I had nearly decided on apples when a certain familiar hand, lean and deft, crept across the pages and fanned through the book. It stopped on a squat spiky-leaved looking little tree decorated with orange.

"I prefer these." He said near my ear. I tried to refuse the thrill it sent through me. "Cake, candy, juice, marmalade… so many different recipes."

"Oranges, huh. Is that some kind of hint?" I smiled, still focused on the image in front of me.

"The most basic and obvious hint I can think of, yes." I could hear the smile in his voice as well. He was clearly unaffected by the incident last night. I don't know if this was predictable of his character or not; I guess it depended on the circumstances. Another night and he might have been fuming with me in this very same instance.

"Well okay," I shut the catalog promptly. It was all the same to me anyway. "But you have to come and help me plant them."

"What? I thought you wanted these to live not die."

"Don't worry, I'll be there to hold you hand," I singsonged back at him, coating the words in sickly-sweet honey and fluttering my eyelashes. He didn't even agree before I gestured at Ruth. "One orange, and one apple please." The cash-register rang up his fate and I even had him carry the sapling back to the farm for me.

I left him burdened with a small tree and canvas shopping bags hanging on his elbows while I went inside to fetch my tools. I was taking rather perverse pleasure in this.

"Just here," I made a little x-marks-the-spot in the empty field with my hoe. "That'll do nicely."

"You don't think it's a bit close to the barn?"

"Oh sorry, I didn't realize I was in the presence of a professional landscaper," I teased. "Here is fine. It won't bother the cows any and it won't overshadow any of my crop."

Chase gave a complimentary sound as he nodded, "So you're actually quite thoughtful about this farming thing."

"I am a professional." Nearby my sheep bleated cheerfully as though by cue.

He gave a laugh, "I can see that."

Despite my wide array of tools I was actually lacking in a shovel of any size or shape so we were committed to digging the two identical holes, one across from the other, with our hands. It felt unfair that I had gloves to protect me from the cold hard earth so I took one off and passed it to him.

He held it up like a limp useless thing, "this will never fit."

"Oh fine," I retorted and removed the other glove, tossing is aside. Before he had the chance to complain and stuck my fingers deep into the dirt and started scrapping it away with my nails; my perfect unsullied nails. Chase followed my example.

"It's still so frozen. Why did you decide to do this today?"

"So that they do all their growing in the spring and I get fruit in the summer," I lied. As if trees could grow that fast.

"I guess so…" He obviously didn't have the same level of commonsense when it came to growing things.

"Angela," he started again, surprising me with my name. "I'm sorry about yesterday."

Yesterday huh; I guess it had bothered him somewhat. "And?" There was another time I was more interested in hearing an apology for. Whether or not he would answer for it was another story.

He continued to dig, "And nothing, I'm sorry I've upset Gill and you're stuck in the middle of it."

How ridiculous; I am the centrifugal point of it.

I heaved a sigh and concerned myself with setting the roots of the tree into the hole we had made. "Don't mention it." I really in all honesty did not want to endure any more empty words from his mouth.

He was silent and I wanted to find that natural feeling we were so good at. Like before in the bar, like when he used to cook for me, like how it was after our disaster of a date at Pineapple Inn. Like when I first kissed him and he allowed it.

I grabbed his docile hands with my own. Our fingers were dirty and the skin was cool. Close at his side I used his hands to push the soil we had dug out back around the roots of the orange sapling. He was acquiescent of my every move, watching the effort of our combined limbs reflexively. When I finished I used his palm one final time to pat the earth firm.

We studied our handiwork; a happy looking sprout at the start of its long life. I've heard the saying 'society grows when old men plant trees whose shade they will never sit in.' Maybe I didn't quite understand it's meaning, but I hoped to see the little tree to full bloom. I hoped that one day I might tell my children to look after this tree. And I hoped that the island would support this tree and many others like it in a lengthy fruitful life for years to come. I would make sure of it.

Chase's hands and mine were still knotted together, so I released him and stretched lazily. "See, even a two-dimensional cook can grow things."

His reply was a bit more cynical, "Time will tell."

* * *

_A/N: looooooong chapter. So many scenes, so many breaks… I haven't written the next chapter yet so I hope I don't struggle to fill it now that I've got all this out, haha. But as per my timeline it's as needed, certain characters just wouldn't shut up and everything became a bit lengthy. But I trust that's a good thing! It's really taking off now._


	9. Promise

**Promise**

**

* * *

**

It was finally summer. Although winter seemed eternal, the snow stretching out without end, I woke up one morning and it was gone; the birds singing their return at my window and the trees flashing their new buds in the early light. Spring caught me in its fervor and fled just as quickly. It got hotter and hotter and eventually time slowed enough that I managed to catch up. As a farmer I really was an instrument of the seasons.

That's not to say it had been a perfect run…

I had lost a cow.

Storm had devastated most of my crop and income.

And Gill was still being distant with me.

Control was slipping through my fingers like so many tiny grains of sand and I could only watch it go. I followed the direction I was told to travel and filled in the blanks; recipes, rainbows, conversations, tasks. Time couldn't define me; I was translucent.

"Can I use these?" a box of strawberries was held in my vision.

"Huh?"

Chase didn't wait for my decision; he held the red fruit between his fingers and pulled a short gleaming knife through it, dropping the slices into a white mixing bowl beneath him. I didn't own any such tableware; seemingly he was bringing more and more things to fill my kitchen cupboards with.

"You're out of it again," He said, eyes keen on the cutting.

"It's just so hot." My voice had inflections of emotion but sounded terribly forced. Chase in particular would be able to hear this.

He hummed thoughtfully, plucking another strawberry up to divide. "I'll make ice cream too." Tears prickled at my eyes. I grabbed handfuls of his apron and pulled myself toward him where I clung desperately. Chase plainly readjusted his bowl and knife, pressed a chaste kiss to the top of my head and carried on working. "We'll eat it out in the shade."

It makes me laugh to say that Chase was my constant; temperamental and guileless Chase who could pick me up and throw me down in any order and I would forgive him. Someday we'd have a little chat and I'd either talk or beat some sense out of him but what mattered now was that he saw that I needed human comfort and set aside whatever it was that plagued him to give it to me.

I didn't cry, I only extracted myself from the reassuring creases of his shirt awkwardly and stared deep into the mixing bowl. I had to snap out of this. I plunged my finger into the batter and tasted. His eyebrow twitched as though to say that he wasn't entirely happy with the action but he glanced toward me and said nothing.

"It's good." I sucked my finger clean and he flashed me that true slightly-lopsided grin that he always had when I complimented his food.

"Wait until it's finished."

We ate the cake and the ice cream under the shade of an overhanging tree like he suggested and I was left with the cleanup. Chase had been thrifty of his time with Yolanda for my sake and to her displeasure, but at the very least he had to be on time for work. Bills don't pay themselves and all that jazz. I was careful not to drop any of his crockery as I washed for fear of buying the replacement. Bills were one thing but it seemed like his little hobby in itself was a bit pricey.

Drying the dishes made me blush; if I could pull myself out of my stupor for long enough we'd be just like newlyweds. I wonder if I could expect a kiss when he returned gallantly at the end of his shift with a merry "honey, I'm home!" Never mind that it would be about two o'clock in the morning.

Afterward I found myself drifting in the fields. The cicada's song was a steady drone as the warm breeze licked the grass around my bare ankles and the daylight faltered behind me. I had my watering can in hand but I remembered that I'd already finished tending the crop for the day. The trees I had planted in the winter with Chase were growing up nicely; gnarled branches holding delicate leaves aloft and stretching its roots bravely down and deeper. So young, so small, but so old.

I inhaled, my eyelids falling closed, and breathed in the scents of my island.

There was still time.

* * *

The noise I hammered out on the front of the mayor's door was lost in the humidity. The weather and my internal mechanisms anticipated a storm at approximately 8pm tonight, and that made me anxious to rush all the more. I raised my hand to knock again and nearly brought it down on Gill's lovely straight nose. It was apparent that they weren't oft to get visitors and the wise son knew who to expect on the other side.

"What." he grated out, partially hidden in the entrance.

I swallowed thickly in order to find my courage and my voice "I'm going up the mountain today."

"W-what? Why!" He threw the door open the rest of the way and met me on the step, looking riled.

"Because there's another rainbow up there of course."

"The last one…?" He deduced thoughtfully. It was early enough that he still looked disheveled from bed; the parting in his hair was messy and his shirt was un-tucked but buttoned at least, the usual tie and vest absent. His lips pursed and un-pursed. "But it's ridiculous. You can't go alone."

I nodded, fully prepared for this reaction, "So come with me."

Gill was rarely speechless. He either chose to speak or he didn't but he always had something to say. I struggled to keep a straight face as his lit up like a Christmas tree, roses blooming in his cheeks.

"It can't be anyone else," I said when his mouth opened to make excuses, "no one else knows."

"What about Chase." He tilted his chin dangerously, peering out at me from under dramatic and shapely eyebrows. I knew he was asking more than simply '_why me and not him'_ but I still couldn't answer him; the question of my relationship with Chase was still not allowing for any scrutiny.

"I haven't told him yet," I squirmed under his examination. "Yet." And I did want to tell him. I knew he suspected something but I found solace in our companionship based wholly in reality. I didn't want any special treatment for my nobility and I especially didn't want any discomfited moments the likes of which I was sure to encounter as soon as I embarked on the conversation if experience with the other suitors of the island served as any verification. But I hoped Chase would be different; Chase would listen, Chase would trust me.

Gill leaned back and crossed his arms, fairy-blue eyes returning my gaze as lidded and guarded as always so that I knew he'd forgiven me, "Alright."

* * *

It was soon apparent that Gill was not built for hiking. He was the kind of guy that you could imagine was quite weedy until that final growth spurt where his jaw set and his shoulders filled out. He had good physique but there wasn't much strength behind it. I wasn't much better but I had a lot more drive.

"This…is…ridiculous…" He said for the second time today sounding shamefully out of breath. "Why would they put it up here?"

"I don't think the sprites actually chose their eternal resting ground…" I wrinkled my nose at how grim that sounded and carried on quickly, "I think it just happened. They're all spread out equally to represent all the different boundaries." I surprised myself with the wisdom. It rang so true that I was certain this was the case and instantly acknowledged it as fact.

"It was rhetorical," Gill huffed. We stopped to drink from our canteens. "More importantly, why are we doing this in this stifling heat?" He had already removed his vest and rolled up his sleeves, now he was in the process of loosening his tie. He looked like a sweaty stressed-out businessman not a hiker.

"You could have dressed more appropriately," I replied and he dismissed the suggestion with a glare. "We're doing it now because it's going to rain tonight and I didn't fancy the prospect of being baked by a lightening bolt up here with you and left to die." I lifted the edge of my tunic to wipe my face. When I lowered it again I saw that Gill had gone wide-eyed and pink. I sputtered, "d-don't stare!"

He quickly averted his eyes and pushed his damp hair out of his face where it stayed stuck in a tuft, "Don't show me your underwear then."

"I wasn't!"

"You're berating me on appropriate attire. Such a kid." Whether he was trying to get the last word in edge wise or commenting on my bra-size, I'll consider no further. There was a refreshingly cool breeze that drifted by and soothed our overheated bodies.

"We could have gone tomorrow if that was the case." He returned the conversation to steady ground and I shook my head.

"No."

"No? Would you mind elaborating on that?"

"Tomorrow isn't quick enough." The breeze in my hair hid him from me.

"You've been doing this for more than a year but tomorrow isn't quick enough?" he spoke scornfully but I agreed.

"If you're going to ask how I know this I won't be able to answer. Call it a heroine's sixth sense." I began to move again, carefully picking my way across loose stones. I heard him scamper and swear behind me and knew he was following my lead.

"I won't ask," there was another curse as he complained that at pebble gotten inside his shoe. "But I won't believe you entirely either."

"You're here, that's enough." I turned to smile at him but had to pretend like I hadn't seen the color that had risen in his cheeks once more as his eyes wandered bashfully. I was breathing heavily with effort but I still managed to deride him, "Better hurry up Gill, that cloud over there looks like a thunderhead!"

We reached the summit still in the daylight but there was no sign of a flower; telltale head bobbing in the wind and blooming charmingly even under the shade of its partnering tree. Gill didn't quite understand what I was looking for but with the clouds gathering progressively overhead I didn't spare any time to explain. Finally after having Gill hold me steady by the waist I was able to lean far enough over to spot a ledge a little further down. The tree seemed smaller than the others but as per standard a modest purple bloom peaked out from under its foliage.

I didn't have to tell Gill to stay; I only removed my extra backpack of mostly useless and random mountaineering items I had gathered and passed it to him. "Be right back." He grabbed my hand tightly as though to keep me, dug through my pack and tied a bit of rope around my hips.

His eyes were brimming with concern but he understood best that this was my responsibility and it could only ever be mine; I was the only person on the island who could still see the sprites. "Just be careful." He gave the rope a tug to check the knot. I grinned to put him at ease and began my descent.

We were horribly under-prepared. Two children really when it came to mountain safety; the rope bit into the flesh of my midriff as Gill refused to give much slack while I lowered myself. An old branch that may have once been a great tree stuck out of the crag jaggedly and in trying to avoid it I slipped and grazed my jaw.

Thankfully I didn't land on the little bud. I replied to Gill's shouts as I emptied my canteen over its leaves. Within seconds I learned that this one could cry louder than any sprite before him.

* * *

"So what you're saying is we have to make that climb again." Gill studied me reproachfully.

I drained my teacup and set it back on its saucer noisily. "I think I saw an easier way up." He tossed up his hands and said little more; apparently this didn't make the idea of hiking again any easier to accept. I gurgled with laughter and stuffed my mouth with bread to stifle it. "You are seriously very bad at this."

He glared me down in disgust, "don't talk with your mouth full."

Outside the storm was raging; we'd made it to the inn for a much needed refueling within an inch of escaping it. Gill, the more commendable member of our party, had ordered a complete meal while I had ordered two different desserts.

I swallowed my see-food. "You don't have to come next time. You'd miss all the confetti and fireworks and goddesses falling to their knees in praise of little ole me but I'd understand if you wanted to sit it out. But this is generally how it works. They send me off with a list of all sorts of junk to fulfill their celestial needs. Stuff I don't usually carry upon my person during your average mountain trek."

As always my attempts at humor fell on deaf ears and he responded blandly, "I'd be more troubled by you falling and being eaten by bears than missing out on some confetti."

Our feast was set in front of us, Maya winking in approval of my double-dessert. I pinched Gill's cheek like an overbearing auntie, already forking a bit of cake towards my mouth. "Ooh, Gilly-Gill. You do care."

I stayed in the bar until late, coaxing the waitresses from their posts for a gossip before they were called back to the bar for more work. Gill had long since cleaned his plate and left in search of a bath to scour away some of the sweat and grime from our outing. Outside the rain had slowed to a pitter and the crackles of lightning and booms of thunder had moved out over the ocean and reformed to mere flashes, the only tell was the tide.

I watched the waves, waiting, knowing that the fine drizzle was probably making my hair curl up in strange disarray and not really minding it. I was aching and exhausted and thinking of my bed but there was one last thing I wanted to do today.

"Hey. What's going on?" His soft lilting voice filled the space beyond my peripherals.

I was glad I could count on Maya to pass on a message; even one that might drive a stake through our friendship. She had given me a serious glance, one that looked foreign on her dainty features, and finally smiled as though accepting what it might mean for her.

I span on my heel towards Chase and clasped his hands hurriedly.

"Come to the Fireworks Festival with me." I rushed the words out but mercifully didn't stumble. He was taken aback, eyes wide and mouth agape. "I know it's not for a while yet but I wanted to bagsy my date before any of the other girls can. I know you have a fan-following."

He recovered from shock and pressed his lips together in a frown, "What are you on about…"

"Please," I insisted. I don't know where my confidence came from. He was just as likely to shoot me down this time as he was the last. Maybe it wasn't confidence at all; maybe it was simply refusal to see it any other way.

His resolute sigh mixed with the crash of the waves, "Okay."

Upon the storm-addled ocean, upon his moonlit face, as apprehensive and disgruntled as he appeared right now, and upon our hands that connected us with all the brevity of a season I promised myself.

I promised that on the night of the festival I would tell him everything.

* * *

_A/N: well this wasn't as long as a chapter as the last but I had to break it up better for the next one. I wonder if anyone can predict the next chapter. Fireworks indeed._


	10. Change

_**Change**_

_**

* * *

**_

On such a tranquil evening my deeply frustrated groan was enough to rattle the shutters. I glared daggers and was met with the same from my reflection that in the mirror appeared utterly ragged and disparate.

This was not how I looked, this was completely wrong. I did not have ruddy weather-beaten skin and cockeyed hair permanently askew, or these dark shadows under my eyes that looked like someone might have painted them on as I slept. Sure, I may not be the Cathy or the Selena of the village but at least I was pleasantly kempt. At best I could remedy the hairstyle and use a little creative makeup. I boldly fished out the scissors from a drawer and began to cut, clippings drifting soundlessly to my feet.

The days before the festival were abuzz with merriment. Many things were shipped in from the mainland for the stalls, the younger kids were trilling with excitement, and the tailors were especially busy mending traditional yukata and dress.

I owned no such thing. My clothing was limited to what I brought on my back when I arrived and I had started a humble collection of garments since. I won't lie and say that I didn't toy with the notion of having Luna throw something together for me but I decided that Chase would probably be more disconcerted by the additional effort than caught up in my beauty. It was also a little too reminiscent of my delicate rose dress, still torn and folded neatly with Chase's borrowed shirt in a box under my bed. Chase hadn't asked for it back and I didn't know how I felt about adding to that box.

A few days ago Gill failed to accompany me back up the mountain. That is to say, I never told him I was going. Edge cried just as much when he made the rainbow as he did when it felt hopeless and in a burst of part annoyance, part empathy I gathered him up and held him to my chest until his tears subsided.

It wasn't like holding a rabbit or some other small animal like I imagined it to be, he was like a child. He nuzzled his tears into the fabric of my breast and his hands gripped at me tightly. The only thing that set him apart from a child was his wispiness; when I thought he felt solid in my arms he'd surprise me and shimmer nearly to fade. Not on purpose of course, he was having difficulty keeping his form after so much energy was exhausted in crying. I knew that without needing him to explain.

"Are you alright now?" I adjusted him so that I could peer into his face.

"I'll be okay." He rubbed his eyes with little black knuckles. "I am tired, so I will sleep." I lifted away and he stopped me with a sob welling again, "Will you come back?"

"Um. Sure." I shrugged a shoulder, feeling oddly self-conscious. I didn't see the necessity of it, since it would only be a short time until he was reunited with his beloved goddess. But having more than one friend to gush over might cure the little fellow of the lake of tears he seemed to house inside.

It was strange. Edge smiled for the first time and I felt it blossom in my heart. Suddenly I very much wanted to return for a visit with this odd little creature; I wanted him to reminisce and tell me tales of how the island used to be. I wanted to meet all the sprites together in one place and see them happy and complete. I settled for this arrangement and watched him go, until the mountain governed over only me and the tiny flower drooping peaceably.

When I got back Gill, of course, tore me a new one. And not only because I had sprained my ankle on the way down and he'd caught me surreptitiously trying to solicit first aid from Perry.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He had become placidly still.

"Because you were just so bad at it." I lamented teasingly but his eyes flashed to say that it wasn't received well. Perry finished dressing my swollen foot in bandage and had left to retrieve the most minimal of forms I agreed to fill out while Gill took his place and gently dropped his hand onto my foot. Our eyes met and I thought he was being overly fond until he squeezed and I cried out in shock.

"Does it hurt?" he moved away. "…then we're even."

I chewed my lip and promised to buy him dinner next time. In my rush to finish the final rainbow I hadn't realized that despite his disparagement towards mountain-climbing Gill might have actually wanted to be there at the end; this island was just as important to him as it was to me, probably more so. I didn't hesitate to tell him how underwhelming it was.

"Nothing. It was just the same as ever. No bursts of heavenly light, no goddess, and no confetti." I double dotted and underlined in all the boxes Perry needed me to tick and we left for a more private place to discuss it. I limped pathetically and decided on the beach since it was closest, ignoring the fact that I'd still have to make my way home at the end of the night.

"Maybe there's another rainbow?" Gill helped me to sit like a carer would an elderly woman.

"No, that's all of them. If there was another one Edge would have told me."

"_Edge_." He deadpanned. "This is the one you said cries a lot."

I laughed, "Yeah, figure that one out. Perhaps it's just beyond our crude earthbound capacity to understand." I nodded sagely and we watched the sun set.

"What's left then?"

"I'm sure she will tell me." In a familiar dream; Gill knew so I didn't need to say.

The fading light sunk away into the ocean, leaving a fair golden ripple in its wake before darkness inevitably swallowed it up. The creatures that stalked the night began to cry; the song of it ebbing and flowing with the waves. Now and again there was a flicker like fireflies far from their home. Some might say they were passing spirits lost on the water.

"What will you do when it's all over?" His voice sliced through the serenity that had captured me. The fingers of both his hands were pressed together at the tips, a position that made him look very much what he was; the Mayor's noble son.

I turned to grin at him, "Farm, I guess." Although his question raised another; would it be enough for me once I was finished playing hero? Would I be content to settle down, think about marriage, and eventually raise a family here?

"You don't have somewhere to return to?"

"Just how do you think I came here," I chuckled. "I'm not exactly listed in trade as some hero-for-hire." There was that word again; I was getting bigheaded. "I came for a fresh start and I found it. I'm not going anywhere." I didn't understand why he felt the need to press the matter but I was happy enough to reassure him.

"Because you belong here." He said. It was a statement of fact that he backed with fiercely lit blue eyes. Where normally I would expect traces of embarrassment for such an announcement there were none.

I forced another laugh, my cheeks heating instead, "Yeah…Thanks."

My reflection was starting to resemble the person I knew myself to be again. Her eyes were still somewhat dim and sleepy, but at least her hair was orderly. I'd even managed to trim the back quite well. I brushed away the remaining hairs and showered before giving my face another once-over with some sheer makeup.

As for my clothes… I decided on a simple white shift dress. It wasn't much different from the norm except that I'd forgone the usual shorts combo. The boots however stayed.

Outside the night was falling. My chickens were still grazing contentedly, their clucks and the occasional quack from Steve a song I was quite attune to. I ushered my flock back inside their houses and took a moment to appraise my little farm. The coop with it's squeaky weather-vane, the stable with it's chipping paint, and my home with it's reliable roof and it's tiny deck that I could quite readily whittle away the hours sitting on listening to the birdsong.

Once upon a time everything felt shallow. I didn't understand what I had come here for. Chase found me when I thought that no one would ever try to look any deeper than my simple play-role as farmer, and now he was stuck with me. Gill too had become an indispensible part of my life, always pushing and prodding me forward. Somewhere along the way I started caring again. I was proud of my work.

Yes, I could be happy here. I _was_ happy here. This was my island.

* * *

I arranged to meet Chase at the dock. He might have collected me from home if I had been a little more forceful but I wanted to be as unassuming as possible to put him at ease; delicate flower as he made himself out to be lately. Predictably, he was already waiting for me 5 minutes early.

I gave a wave and a smile as I ran up to him. "Happy Festival!"

He returned my wave and smile amicably, "Is that the official greeting?" He paused, a thoughtful thumb and forefinger caressing his chin. "You're hair looks nice."

Although he was previously standoffish concerning the date, he still offered me his arm as we walked into town. The dark apron was missing, and he looked roguishly good; I think my type was beginning to form around the faces he'd show me. I could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin material of his summer shirt as I hung on to his arm appreciatively.

The streets were bustling with entertainment. Most of the townsfolk we crossed were playing some kind of game or buying food but some seemed almost to nod at us in passing; in acceptance of our pairing. Well, it's not like I had been all that discrete about my feelings. Maya however paused with her mouth hanging open, a stick of candy poised for a bite as she watched us go with wide-eyed astonishment. I was remorseful until we reached the goldfish stand and Chase offered to catch me one. His violet eyes were twinkling reflections of the street lights.

I'm sorry Maya, but I really want that fish.

Chase re-rolled his sleeves and began scooping, and he was really terrible at it. Eventually my cheering waned and I kneeled beside him "You have to be quicker, or it breaks," taking his hand in mine, much like I had when we planted the tree, I exemplified my meaning.

"You're deconstructing my manly facade here," His eyebrows creased pleadingly and his lips curved to simper.

I in turn scoffed wickedly, "what facade?" But our second effort got us no closer to being fish-owners.

"Oh Chase," I complained good-naturedly afterward as we were eating some barbequed fish from a Toucan Island stall. "You lifted my hopes up so high and then dashed them cruelly. They are dashed." He rolled his eyes in reply, looking elsewhere for something to distract me with.

"Wait here." From a nearby counter he grabbed a novelty mask and snapped it over my face. I yelped and struggled with it and when I lifted it away he was lost to the crowd. I paid for the mask and wandered to the beach.

Here the lights were fewer, just barely managing to illuminate one step in front of another. This was of course in preparation for the firework viewing. Nearby Paulo and Chloe chased each other with sparklers and doused their remains in the sea. Footfalls behind me made me spin on my heel.

"Where did you go?" the night light made his flyaway hair look darker, more dramatic, along with his eyes that seemed the same color as the inky black water. From his hand a bag and goldfish hung delicately.

"How did you…"

"Without the pressure of you breathing down my neck…" he tied the band around my wrist loosely so that I still had use of my hands. When he met my enquiring eyes his smile slid naturally back into place and he shrugged. "I paid for it instead."

"So you cheated." I rebuked happily, poking the plastic that held my fish to watch it circle.

"The end result is the same."

I maneuvered closer, directing my gaze to the horizon in order to disguise my intention, and swiftly pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Thank you."

"Fireworks soon." He said, seeming to disregard my token of affection, although when I eyed him discretely he appeared flustered and uncertain.

The beaches were still quiet; the time of the show must still be a while off. I was trying to sum up my courage as now was a good a time as any. Later I might flake out and leave the night as it is; a rather nominal and pleasant date between friends. I took a deep breath to steady myself.

"So, what did you really bring me out here for?"

"Huh?" my concentration broken I studied his expression, which was now hard and resolute.

"We can pretend for longer if you like, but I am curious to know."

My heart seemed to speed up and sink at the same time. Although his tone was still altogether friendly he truly had a way with words. "I'm not pretending." My hands wound against my chest. "You're the one who's never been honest."

The silence spelled out before us. "It's so difficult with you. You want one thing and then you keep asking for more. I never promised that." He said finally his eyes boring into me. They were angry, misguided, and confused. Just like I was.

"Slow down." I rubbed my temples, feeling my control slip again. "This isn't what tonight is about."

"Then what is it?" he clipped.

"Why are you so upset?" I pleaded, irritation mixing with my words of defense.

"I am upset. I keep going in circles… You… You change everything." Each sentence was punctuated by his hands which were animated; threading through his hair, clenching at his sides, gesturing at me.

Further down the beach people were gathering, settling themselves into couples or laying out blankets to sit on. I was nervous about the volume our voices had reached but I couldn't seem to stop myself.

"What about me?" I felt my entire body quake as I faced him. "I'm still here. I'm waiting for you, Chase. I'm waiting for you to sort yourself out and see me for real this time. No more games. No more silly efforts. Just me, the girl you approached in a bar who is helplessly caught up in something bigger than she is! A girl who is utterly and hopelessly-"

A boom and crackle of lights exploded above us and smaller ones soon followed. They whipped and tore and shattered in the sky. The sound ignited my words. Had I not shouted at him they might have been swallowed by the noise.

_In love with you! _

I truly hated to say it like this. It was meant to be cherished, contained, and saved for the right moment. I had planned to broach it so much more gently. Now he was staring at me, aghast as though I had just threatened his life, his mouth open handsomely however stupid. And something clicked. Or broke, or fell into place, I don't know, but I was running. Running with all the strength and speed I could muster; pumping my legs so hard that it made the old injury in my ankle throb.

Behind me the fireworks flew and I imagined he called my name. The same sweet sound I was always yearning for.

* * *

I was in a spring.

The water pulsed around me and the whiteness of my dress seemed to glow. I'd forgotten why I was wearing it and not the familiar farmer's green. I was soaked through and my underwear was visible beneath it. The unfamiliar plane was bright as though lamp-lit but I realized that the radiance was coming from the water itself.

I found I had strength enough to lift myself out of the shallows and was stood at the foot of a tree. It was less a tree than it was a stump; something ancient and dead, living only by the great roots it had once spread through the land to borrow from its vitality. I touched it gingerly, as though it might crumble under my scrutiny, but it was as solid as stone.

Behind me was a light sprinkle of footsteps but I was unafraid.

"Angela," I turned toward the voice. I'd hardly had the chance to hear it properly but I knew it for what it was; a perfect manifestation of her. Blue and deep and serene as the steady tide. We faced each other like a reflection.

"Harvest Goddess," I said lightly, the sound of my own voice was thick as it bounced back off the water and the starry sky that seemed to wrap around this place.

"Do you love this island?" She asked plainly. I remembered all the trials. I thought of the efforts I made for each rainbow and the people I had grown to love through it. Everything seemed so long ago in comparison to this moment. My heart pined for someone but it was too much to recall. The goddess pulled all of my attention to her.

I answered truthfully, "This is my home."

The goddess looked away briefly, her eyes swimming with something akin to regret before they met mine anew. Her voice never waivered, "Then keep it."

I can imagine that this is how it feels to be struck by lightning. Every nerve ending sang, and I was rigid with electricity. There was no pain only change, as though something was forcing itself to fit inside the small envelope of my body. I was emptied and refilled with something as light and airy as the wind. My vision blurred terribly and then sharpened, all at once training on the soft face of the goddess again.

She whispered, once more without a voice, and vanished. Where she was now stood Chase disheveled and breathing heavily with a look of perfect horror on his face. My breast panged intimately and brought everything back to me in a rush until I tumbled forward.

This was what it all came down to. This was my final clear thought.

Time, place, and means. My despair, my hopelessness, the passing seasons, the rainbows, every simple exchange. Gill. Chase. Everything accumulated for this moment. It was all planned so that one day I might become what the island needed.

New roots for its existence.

I sobbed immodestly, hoping that Chase might hear me. Hoping he might understand what this meant. But he was immovable, trapped in the shock and awfulness of everything I had kept hidden from him since the beginning. My hands couldn't warm me, couldn't protect me from the light.

In the end, the light was all there ever was.

* * *

_A/N: And so ends part one._

_I was going to make this a double release with the next chapter since it's such a very big cliffhanger and if you liked it you're probably wondering how I will continue from here… Well, I can now safely reveal that the second half of this story will be in Chase's perspective. I decided against a dual release since I wanted everyone's feelings on this chapter alone._

_Reading back…although the chapters aren't even that long, it feels like we've come so far. I hope you have enjoyed this as much as I have, and that this dramatic change hasn't put you off. I realized the moment that I began to work towards this chapter that I might lose some readers who were hoping for a more realistic conclusion; however I hope that I've convinced you somewhat as the characters have grown. In my plans there are an equal ten chapters to come, give or take a prologue, so I hope that you will stick with me to see the eventual close._

_To those of you who feel you have really lost touch with Chase in all of his wishy-washiness… Soon we will actually get to see some of his inner workings and come to understand him._

_Thank you for reading._


	11. Chase

_**Chase**_

_A/N: my apologies that some of you were confused with the last chapter. The problem being that we have such unreliable narrators, that in a spot of difficulty the details can become vague._

_Title is both for the change in narrator and the focus of the chapter._

_

* * *

_

Fireworks Festival, August 28. 22:47 and 3 seconds. Although, that's only a guess.

I am stood across from a woman who has just become the biggest quandary of my 25 years so far. Above us the sky is exploding; fragments of manufactured light rain down and blink out over the ocean. I'm sure the fireworks are beautiful, amusing at least, but right now I can't pull my eyes from her face. She looks scared, terrified, and I imagine it's something of a reflection of me.

Before I can unglue my tongue from the roof of my mouth which has gone dry she's running; a terrible imbalanced run that seems as though she's favoring one leg over the other as she bolts towards safety.

And I don't know any better to wait until everything can settle in my stomach; I take off running after her.

* * *

"…Angela?"

The silence was deafening. I couldn't remember how we'd come to be here and I can't understand what I've just seen. One moment she is looking through me, conversing with the air and the next everything becomes too bright to see. The water is on fire, the stars ahead are over-shone, and I had to squeeze my eyes shut for fear of never seeing again. Angela was too far out of my reach. Her cry pierced me.

When everything dimmed and it was night again it took a while for my vision to readjust so I imagined it was a trick of the mind. Slouched with her knees dirty to the ground was Angela but not the Angela I remember. Her eyes seemed vacant; the light brown color that never failed to remind me of sunflowers seemed darker and was flecked through with a hazy blue. Her freshly trimmed hair was now cascading down her back, the long strands that once served as her bangs drooped awkwardly across her nose. Her skin had become fair and free of every freckle and blemish that her work under the sun might have imposed upon her.

Although my legs felt as though they'd turned to jelly I managed to creep towards her clumsily, our knees bumping as I inelegantly lowered myself to the ground. My hands shook as I faltered but only briefly. Her shoulders were cool to the touch as I shook her, once again reciting her name but I wasn't granted a response.

I wasted no more time and lifted her gently against my back, thankful that she didn't seem to have lost all sense of movement as well as receptivity. The direction back to town was foggy in my head, and I wasn't even sure that Doctor Jin could fix whatever this was but with her delicate presence against me, how light she seemed to have become, I worried that I didn't have the time to question it.

I followed the age old teachings of one foot after another and began the race.

* * *

When I resumed consciousness I was the one in the hospital bed and I was alone. I remembered most of it, but they must have guessed that I'd be disoriented when I woke because seated at my bedside was Yolanda; old, reliable, consistently even-tempered Yolanda quietly flipping through a dull looking magazine.

"Where is she?" My tone was calm but it was unmistakably a demand. I directed my gaze to the predictably white tiled ceiling of so many hospital rooms.

"How are you feeling?" the magazine flapped shut.

"Answer my question first."

"I can't answer it, Chase." there was a tinge of sadness in her usually steady voice, "because I don't know." She pressed the buzzer that summoned the doctor and settled back comfortably. "You were brought here alone."

My head spun precariously and threatened to turn my stomach. I felt battered as though I was forced to squeeze through a small space at high speed. My skin ached. "I wasn't alone."

Jin and Perry came into the room, the former with a swish of linen and the latter bustling ahead to do some distracting checks on the machinery nearby. He called out words and numbers that I chose to ignore as he scribbled them into the neat little sections of his clipboard. Jin checked my eyes for dilation.

"Do you know where you are?" His accent was exotic and rich when he spoke and his expression one of genuine doctorly concern, but I still answered coldly. Medical staff and I were never meant to get along.

"Of course I do."

"Do you remember how you got here?"

"I'm fairly sure that question wouldn't be pertinent if I did."

Jin hardly batted an eye. "You seem coherent enough. No loss of rational speech pattern." And to this Perry again scribbled something down. "I believe you've suffered concussion. It's nothing severe but it's usually best to keep patients overnight. Some things take longer to show." His mouth pulled down at the edges, and I had the feeling that he was anticipating my feelings on the matter.

"Will you use force to keep me?" I said.

The doctor took the clipboard from Perry and wrote something himself. "No." At his side the young assistant watched nervously. I knew little about him other than his name and a crude estimation at his age, but I imagine he's as nice as the rest of the island-born children.

I pushed myself up in the bed, grateful that no one had taken the opportunity to change me into one of those hateful backless hospital-dresses. "Then thank you Doctor. You're concern is noted and I'll check in with you again tomorrow."

Yolanda stood with me, never voicing any qualms against my decision. Being upright made me dizzy but I refused to let it show. If Jin wanted to he could probably put me back on my ass and in that bed for good, but he made no further mention on my well-being simply asked Perry to arrange for the bed to be freed and changed following my discharge.

Outside Yolanda grasped my shoulder. She had to reach beyond her means to find it but when she did her grip was firm. "Don't be stupid. Go home and rest."

"I need to find her."

"Chase, you bumped your head. What you think happened was nothing more than a dream. I'm sure little Angela is safe at home and watering her fields."

I tore away from her hand, not even grateful that she guessed my quarry right and resisted wasting time to ask, "I haven't hit my head. It was something else," something that allowed me to follow her up the mountain but just barely let me travel back down again, although this I didn't say.

Yolanda was watching me warily. As grounded as she seemed to be she was taken aback by my severity; I had only ever shown her smiles and the occasional grump when a recipe went wrong. Now though, she looked scared. I ran a hand through my messy hair, sure that I appeared to have been caught in an upward draft, in an effort to calm myself again. "Who brought me to the doctor?"

Yolanda straightened, her apron hanging perfectly cylindrical about her stoutness with never a wrinkle, "It was the Mayor's son, Gill."

* * *

I didn't know where to find Gill. I knew that he worked as many hours as his father did but rarely left the office behind unlike the wayward mayor. But in the hall was only Elli whistling a jaunty little tune as she filed through a cookery book and made notes. She didn't know where he was either. I suppose there were perks to being who he was in that he didn't even need to call in to work to pull a sicky he just skipped if he found it necessary.

Yeah, that about fit his description.

The only other place I could expect him was at the inn, but with Angela missing I didn't see the image of him taking lunch on his own as very likely. Without any more leads I was left with the options of searching blindly or waiting until he returned home and neither particularly interested me. Every minute that ticked by was one less and I was growing impatient.

I threw the door of my house shut and shed my dirty clothes in favor of fresher ones. In the mirror I looked tired and as aggravated as I felt. My hair took some taming and I rolled my sleeves habitually. That's when I noticed it; In the reflection, past the bathroom and the couch, and set inconspicuously on my kitchen table there was a vase.

I approached it circumspectly. I knew the vase, I had bought the vase. Inside it were the brown twisted remains of the flowers I had given Angela so many months ago. They fell apart in my hands; of course they were long dead. Why would she keep these, but more importantly, how did they end up back here? The hairs on the back of my neck tingled.

I was going crazy. She probably was at home and I really did hit my head.

The vase was most likely an afterthought of hers following last night after another perfectly innocent evening was ruined by my careless tongue. I fell back into a chair and tried to avoid replaying the reel of memories through my mind. I wanted to kick myself; if she really was at the farm I couldn't be certain that she'd even allow me audience. But I had to see her. I had to put that vision from the mountain out of my head. The long tresses and empty eyes weren't simply unsuited to her, the combination distorted in her and became something different entirely.

I must have been spoiled, because it hardly took another minute of consideration before I was back out the door and climbing the hill to her home.

Outside the farmstead had a strange air; it was stale and vague, lacking in that constant vitality she always brought out of it. I couldn't swallow the fact that I might have just been letting my mind get ahead of me and it was filling in the holes of my skepticism; it just felt wrong. On a regular sunny day like this there was usually more life. The breeze whistled through the grass like wind chimes.

I was shaken from my observation by a dull thud. Upon her doorstep was Gill, secondary in my hunt, stuffing a key in the lock and rattling it. I closed the distance between us by a sprint. When he whirled on me I was tense, my fists clenching as they twitched to gather him up by the collar for questioning. I pulled deeply on the still air to steady myself.

"Is she here?" I asked, hopeful that I could deliver a simple sentence like that without any hint of the desperation I was feeling. He didn't seem any better at veiling his emotion. He expressed little surprise at my arrival. His arms crossed and his eyebrows went taught, the blue beneath them glittering.

"Of course she isn't." He brushed past me. This time I didn't hold back; I grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around to face me.

"So then where?" I breathed heavily over him but to his credit he didn't look even a little flustered.

"I don't know." He muttered lamely. Although his bitter expression never altered, his gaze dropped to the ground. Those three little words that meant nothing only served to taunt me today.

Instead of allowing this helplessness to stagnate between us I found purchase on the earth and dragged him with me, back towards the house. There was still something he could offer me.

"Then you can tell me what you do know."

* * *

It was strange that although her pastures felt eerily deserted after only one day that the inside of her house stood still as though patiently awaiting her return. It was one elongated room; really simple. The shutters were open and the sunlight sprinkled through the clean windows, the bed was unmade, and there was a smattering of dishes in the sink. It had definitely improved since the first time I visited, though I could thank myself largely for that. The comfortable lived-in sensation permeated the air as sweetly as potpourri.

I resolutely put the kettle on and prepared the teapot. Gill was sat at the table fingering his key. I knew that she usually left the place unlocked and his possession of the key sat more uncomfortably with me than I'm willing to admit. Since he appeared to be as tight lipped as ever I realized I was going to have to be the one to initiate the conversation.

"Lets start with how you found me. Yolanda said you were the one who brought me to the clinic."

He gave a disdainful sniff.

"Thank you." I grit out, feeling a rush of head fill my head. I would play the careful game of getting him to talk even if it meant sacrificing some of my own ego for his. It wasn't just to satisfy my curiosity anymore, I needed to know everything.

He only began after I set his cup in front of him, "I found you passed out near the lake." He gave me a calculated stare. "She was there too."

At this point I was certain that he was both expecting and seeking to get a rise out of me. He was weighing me up and stringing me along, and using his information over mine to do so. I didn't bother to give him the satisfaction of seeing my surprise, so I sipped my tea and gesture that he continue coolly. His eyebrow twitched but that was all.

"When I found you I was obviously more concerned for her." That goes without saying. "She was…different. Something had happened. But I assume you already know as much."

I exhaled softly. A tension in my shoulders that I hadn't even noticed was released. So it had been real; I hadn't dreamt or hallucinated anything subsequent to a minor head injury.

"She woke up but, "he paused, using his cup as a distraction as he swilled the tea inside never once taking a drink from it. "It wasn't her."

"What do you mean," I asked point-blank, my pitch rising above his. He ignored me and carried on voicing his thoughts calmly to himself.

"She looked at me, and she called my name… but it was different. Something to do with the… Most importantly after that she just…"

"What?" I leaned forward, not remembering any of this. His gaze was serious, all encompassing, perhaps he'd forgiven me for being the only other person that cared to pursue this. His lips pulled into a tight line.

"Disappeared."

* * *

At home the vase was still sitting on my table like something foreign.

I thought to eat but my kitchen gave me no comfort. Gill had spoken more precisely after that and explained most of what Angela had been trying to do but the ideas still spun in my head, exhausting me. I didn't understand the half of it, and the natural cynic in me wanted to laugh at him and walk away. These things didn't exist in the real world and I could prove it. My life alone was more realism than I ever wanted to know.

I fell onto my sofa and covered my eyes. My skin still prickled and my head still hurt. Actually it had progressed far enough to say it was splitting, but I didn't have the energy to medicate it. A rainbow? Is that what had done this to me? I was sick with the disbelief.

I thought of her, not the one I played witness to with moonlit skin and hollow eyes but the farmer-girl with skinned knees and dainty fingers and hair that was short and spiky around her neck. She smiled and spun in the fog and thick of my pain-addled brain.

I had asked her once and she refused to tell me. I knew there was more than met the eye but I was happy to accept that she wouldn't lie. Now I understood why she kept it hidden; the knowledge threatened to overturn everything I knew about the way the world worked and yet she had accepted it so easily.

Magic, fairies, a lost goddess, and rainbows you could walk on. Somewhere out there she was moving. Not the shell that I had fetched from a mysteriously accessible mountain but truly her; walking and talking and knowing Gill. And that caught bitterly in my throat. The only thing that could truly settle me was sleep. I buried my face in a cushion and stayed there until morning.

* * *

_A/N: I hope I've managed to capture Chase's inner voice alright. I know there are a lot of similarities to Angela as she was always quite sarcastic herself, but I like to think this is part of what draws them together. Where they are both a little bit critical sometimes, Chase has impatience while Angela has a softer receptivity and amnesty._

_I was going to include another meeting with Angela in this chapter, but I far prefer the panic and confusion here. If you are still not quite sure what's going on, and that's okay. Neither of our bachelors really know yet either, and it's not as much fun to tell :)_

_Thank you for all your reviews. I miss you, Absolute!_


	12. Goddess

**Goddess**

* * *

I woke up from a dream of the mountain when I threw myself from the couch. A used mug clattered on the coffee table as I banged my knee against it and swore loudly. The cushions had tumbled down with me, and I lay in a messy disgruntled heap on the cool floor. I blinked my vision skyward only for it to stop disappointingly at my ceiling. It was the same generic brown ceiling it had always been rather than the star clouded night I was certain I would see. The clock on the wall read 5 am.

Despite the darkness outside still struggling to keep its hold over the rising sun I didn't see myself getting back to sleep. The prospect of working didn't particularly tickle me either, but in truth I didn't know what to do next. The dusky luminescence in my humble house only added to the dreamlike sensation that still clung to me. I decided that some strong cowboy coffee might shake me awake. Just the smell of the beans was enough to bring me around, blinking my sleep-bleary eyes and yawning indecorously. Regrettably however, being fully conscious brought me straight back to mulling where I had left off last night.

If it was only a matter of exploring the island to locate Angela then I would have agreed, but now that I knew she had admittance to places I had never even laid eyes on the task became that much more daunting. If she didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be.

In one hand I held my coffee and in the other I thumbed the vase. There was a crisp new chip in the rim that was still sharp. She must have dropped it. How meaningless that I observe this detail with a sense of mystery as though it might point me in the right direction.

After I'd cleaned myself up via the morning routine of a shower and a shave I went to the farm but there had been no change since yesterday. I had convinced Gill to leave the house key under a telltale stone near the deck should either of us need it as I didn't have a copy and he couldn't agree to leave it unlocked. He was smug and unwilling, and I would have liked to watch him spin after I forcefully and verbally wiped the look from his face but in the end he agreed. After all if Angela was to reappear and find herself unable to get into her own home for missing keys we'd both look stupid.

I kicked the rock aside and the lock clicked noisily with disuse when I turned it. I felt my lips curl into a smile; she was such a country bumpkin, locking a door was something unknown to her. There was no such thing as strangers on this island, only friends she didn't know as well as others.

Regardless of her early and secret complaints to me she was comfortable here. Her only disappointment was that people couldn't accept her as readily as she had accepted them. She was new, interesting, to be held at arm's length until they could figure her out. I had lived here in long enough intervals to understand how it worked. It made sense now, why she had been so bothered; she was shouldering all these other grave responsibilities at the same time as bearing with the islanders' distant curiosity.

Not that knowing made any difference; I had already been drawn by the depth of her profundity.

Inside the house was the same as ever, cluttered, unobtrusive, but warm. She had no photographs and very few decorative trinkets. It was a fact I had noticed the first time, possibly by a trait I had picked up from a few visitors in my past whose eyes were always drawn to the same things first- or lack thereof. I didn't see the problem in it but it was unlike a woman to live without a memento of her early days.

I twisted the tap in the sink on and left a squirt of dish soap before moving to make the bed. I didn't have any experience in farming or animal care, but I was fully capable of housework. Since it was her, Gill could be trusted to see to the rest.

* * *

At the inn I routinely turned down tea and brunch biscuits with Jake behind his daily paper and Yolanda initiated her teaching punctually as per usual. Maya was oblivious and had cheerily buzzed with broken bits of song while she dusted down the furniture the same as she did every morning. Only Coleen was wary and mothering, her concern over my recent trip to the clinic not to be ignored.

"Have you checked in with the Doctor?" Although nearly a foot shorter than I she was making an admirable effort to check my head for any signs of long-term damage.

Yolanda slapped dough upon the counter and began to kneed, evidence of annoyance showing even in her work-worn knuckles, "He will during his break, now you're interrupting." I breathed a sigh; when I said I'd check in with Jin I had obviously been lying but the strictness in my teacher's movements suggested that I either do as I was told or I might end up chaperoned to my destination.

Maya's head appeared over the bar, blue eyes shining as they spied our work, "Can I help, Grandma?"

"No," she clipped. And I allowed a wry smile as Maya's face dropped maybe a millimeter. It wasn't as much about cooking with Maya as it was about eating. How she managed to fit into that ridiculously pink outfit everyday perplexed common knowledge.

Coleen bustled next to the younger blonde, adjusting one of her braids. Her sweetly high-pitched voice was not dissimilar as she said, "Have you changed the beds yet?" Maya's gaze was on me when it glazed over idly and she rested her chin on the bar in dejection. With the answer everyone expected- a resilient no- the mother hen hurried her up the stairs and back towards her daughterly duties.

Yolanda brought my attention back to the pastry with a bump of her rolling pin and I collected ingredients for the next step. I didn't take notes, I had a small recipe box at home but the rest was in my head; carefully categorized and stowed for later use. Yolanda's teachings were all deeply ingrained with the basics. She always said that once I mastered those a little flourish and creative thinking would naturally develop the flavours. Nonetheless, this didn't keep me from excitedly skipping ahead some days to try something a little more involved, or drawing on my own inventiveness and crafting new dishes. I kept my triumphs and my failures to myself.

"You are going," she said amidst the flour. Ah, Jin.

"Yes," I answered, stirring vigilantly. It was comforting in a small way that this place resisted change. These walls were always here to welcome me, in good and hard times, as I came and went. Even when something as dire as a missing person's case was afoot and outside I knew the world was nothing as it seemed.

* * *

Thanks to the magnitude of Yolanda's concern she was quite receptive to my appeal to have her cover the evening shift for me. Jin's office if anything made my eagerness to reinitiate my search all the more keen. I could feel the pinpricks of impatience as I sat leg over leg in simulated relaxation and fielded his questions with about as much censorship as I was capable of.

The doctor was highly intuitive, and had years worth of patience and experience under his belt, but I wanted neither to pique any interest nor gain any assistance from him. Something in his smooth poker-faced decorum turned my stomach. It was as sterile as the room. He clicked his pen and spoke.

"Nothing abnormal. I can prescribe something for the residual pain but it'll only be a shade stronger than anything you can buy over the counter with some minimal drowsiness as an after-effect."

"No thanks." I was studying his plastic skeleton with all the fervor of a man looking for a way out or maybe a date.

"Chase," his lips on my name made me bristle, "I've heard that Angela is missing." He had set aside his paperwork and was looking at me earnestly.

Like a spoiled child I didn't refrain from replying with the I-told-you-so's, "Yeah, so if we are through here…" I uncrossed my legs and moved to rise but he held my back by the elbow.

"I've seen a girl." He blinked delicately during the pause; eyelashes faint behind the glare of his glasses. I was already growing tense. "She was both unfamiliar and the same."

I gripped his arm in the same fashion, prior psychoanalysis forgotten, and said "Where?"

Jin's guidance was vague. We were practically neighbors and we traveled the same roads but his descriptions proved to show that we had different mother-tongues. I followed his words and ended up at the shore's edge in a place I'd never bothered to explore but I couldn't be certain I was right. There were no other visitors but that couldn't rule out the possibility that she'd simply been and gone before I arrived. The glimmer of hope that I felt was stamped out.

Nearby gulls cried, and a little further down I spotted a hermit crab digging. There was evidence that this used to be a bonfire site like many others dotted around the island but other than that the land appeared untouched. Tufts of grass and weed hung from the bank that rose high into the cliff-side, and the sound of the water echoed through tiny bird hole drilled into the rocky outcrop. I kicked my toes free from my sandals and folded beside the tide.

_'In love with you_,' she had said. But what I couldn't understand was _why_. Why when I had pushed and pulled and bounced her in a new direction almost daily. Along the way I had discovered something: her forgiveness filled a hole in me. Something empty and pitiful and long ignored felt complete for the first time. At first I was bemused, and curious, and then finally repulsed. Even as she gave me something no one else had I felt significantly that she was taking something away in the same moment. I had always been alone and it was how I functioned best.

But even now I couldn't follow my own designs. Even now I was chasing after her. All thanks to those four little words and those fiercely bright fireworks caught on repeat.

Sand drifted between my toes, a wave washing in higher than the last. The breeze off the ocean raged through my hair. It was no wonder on an isle like this that I looked habitually windswept. I thought to carry on down the beach in search of Jin's mysterious girl when the clue was suddenly dangled right in front of my eyes: a glimpse of white cloth fluttering behind the tall grass. Instantly I was on my feet.

My heart was beating wildly and my bare skin stung with each step upon clumps of sharp-edged wild grasses but I ran towards the figure calling out. In alarm the girl jerked her head up and her long, wind ravaged hair floated about her. She saw me and began to move in the opposite direction but my stride was longer and I was quick to this game. I closed my hand over her shoulder and twisted her into my grip.

Her eyes were wide, terrified, and as deep as the sea. Her lips and shoulders shook like she was about to cry.

"Angela…" I swallowed; fear creeping into the fingers that held her and making me itch. It wasn't Angela, it couldn't be Angela, but she was the only one there was and I couldn't let her go.

In time her voice flowed to my ears; a tiny insignificant thing but still very much hers. "No, I'm not."

* * *

For hours I haunted the square outside of Town Hall like a ghost, drifting back and forth in the moonlight, pacing with urgency. Finally the lights inside the building blinked out one after another until only one remained. Ellie had left, the mayor was at home, there could only be one other person in there flicking the switches so deliberately and it was the very person I was waiting on. I marched to the door from my pacing spot just as he closed it behind him, keys rattling and the whole scene playing on my memories of the last time we met.

"Hey," I called to him. He checked me over his shoulder, pretending he hadn't seen me from the first or he was very adept at hiding his surprise.

"Chase." He replied by way of greeting. If I hadn't been so anxious to speak to him I would have been more impressed by his lack of appeal. I could give him some tips in another place, another life.

"Have you got a minute?"

"That would certainly depend." A more fitting answer from him I couldn't have imagined. He stuck the grand selection of Hall keys into his pocket and folded his arms across his argyle-vested torso.

"Are you ever going to make this easy?" I inquired honestly, feeling my solar plexus twinge uncomfortably as I revealed myself to him a little too candidly. But we'd waste so much less time if he could only managed to swallow his pride enough to skip the well planned rebuttals and speak with me deferentially. I knew the words to force-skip the pettiness at least. "It's about Angela."

Since Hamilton was probably tucked up in bed dreaming of the next festival I lead Gill back to mine. It was an awkward journey to say the least. We neither walked side by side nor said anything; I for fear or letting it all tumble free in a noisy protest against the beatific island evening and he probably for plain discontent that I was able to find her before he did. I was appreciative that he succeeded in keeping up.

Indoors it was no more comfortable. This time I skipped the perfunctory of tea and planned to dive straight in but Gill beat me to it.

"Why isn't she here with you?"

"Look, just hold on a second. Let me start at the beginning. She's still around and I'll find her again."

"I'm having difficulty placing my trust in that," His eyes went from me to the unassuming décor of my kitchen slash sitting room. I realized that it probably the first time I'd ever brought another guy to my home, and the way this meeting was going it would probably be the last as well. He was purposefully pushing my buttons to see how much I would squirm and I had to resist falling into the trap.

"Just listen!" I slammed my open palm onto the table so hard that the sting rang all the way up my elbow. His stupefaction soon dissolved into a glare that could match my own, but his lips were sealed into a tight line of acquiescence.

"It's exactly as you said." My mind span back to the vision of her as she talked on the beach. "She's different. She told me so herself." I was still confused but I'd seen and known too much to doubt it now. "She told me what happened..." I broke off, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly powerless and absurd.

"I'm listening," he said evenly, one could imagine he was trying to soothe my trouble.

"She said..."

And radically I was back there, on the beach, hidden from town and every thing, watching her say it. The breeze mussed her hair prettily, the white cloud of her dress swayed. He eyes were full of sorrow I couldn't place and so much blue.

_"No, I'm not,"_ her heels lifted from the sand as she stood tip-toed to brush a hand across my cheek_."Angela is gone... and I'm..."_ She fumbled for the right words, giving way to the sound of the tide.

_"I am_ Harvest Goddess."

* * *

_A/N: awkward chapter. So much dancing around the point, but it's such a difficult thing to communicate through such a strict realist like Chase. Gill would have been easier! Writing "Angela is gone" scares me more than you know...but of course it's all for drama's sake or I would have to file this fic under Tragedy. Drama, drama...this chapter is rife with it. Not even a short session at the Inn could relieve it. I'll be glad to move on, this chapter just feels like a place holder to me no matter how much of it was necessary :/_


	13. Name

_**Name**_

_If you are still here, give a shout! To my anonymous reviewers, tufted titmouse, mighty mutt, super panda, thanks for your encouragement! It's nice to know that there are some non-members out there following attentively. Enjoy some return to lightheartedness._

* * *

She sat by my side, a comforting weight and wind block from the draft the ocean's currents could stir. Sometimes her hair would whip against me, gently though I could feel it through the thin fabric of my clothes; unnatural and alien. Eventually she spoke again, eager to tell me her story and be gone.

"For the island," she began. "It has been sustained since its birth." I felt a shudder grip me, knowing that her explanation was once again going to turn reality on its head and knowing that I didn't want to hear it. But I let her continue. "This place has always been a link of the human spirit and the earth. Life here is precious, both the people and the island itself have always wished to support each other."

"What changed?" I asked, as she expected me to. Her tale was only that, fictitious until she associated it to examples I could relate to. I wasn't born here, I didn't know the history, and I didn't feel that same sense of love for this rock I lived on that these people she referred to had once, but I knew that the townsfolk I lived with were also forgetting the truth, or they would have understood better when the tree had begun to fail.

"Time," She breathed like a sigh, sounding infinitely sad. "In the past there was always someone to answer the call. When a sapling had begun to wither there was someone who knew were to find her, and exchange."

"Exchange like this…" I motioned towards her wearing Angela's skin like the perfect disguise. She tried valiantly to avoid my eyes and their intense study.

"Not exactly," She looked sheepish, and it struck me.

"Did Angela know about this?" She appeared timid as her hair hid her face from me.

"She knew me and I tried to tell her, but our connection was fragile. Although she would have felt some things along the way... She didn't know for certain until she accepted it."

I grit my teeth. "Accepted it…" my fists clenched and released. "How could she. That girl didn't even have someone she could truly call friend thanks to this. She was lost and afraid despite whatever brave face she might have put on for you."

The goddess in the shape of the same girl looked alarmed by my rapidly simmering temper and maybe just as fearful but I was glad. I wanted to frighten her away. I stood at my tallest and bore down, taking her hands tightly in my own and staring deep into those unfamiliar eyes.

"You say it's for the island. You say it's for us and our prolonged survival, how noble," I spat, my voice bubbling with careful abhorrence that amazed even me. "But I know," I finished with barely a whisper to her unguarded ear and the crook of her elegant neck, "you **stole** her."

Gill would be furious with me, and I would regret the decision later, but in that moment I truly wanted her to run from me. As fast as her new human legs would take her. And that was just what she did.

* * *

When I finished telling Gill the whole thing we sat facing, each looking as bewildered and despondent as the other. I finally made tea as my guest considered the information, his pale fingers tracing thoughtful patterns against his temples. Eventually he ran the details by me again, confirming that he had heard it all.

"Harvest Goddess," He said opaquely. "Does she have a name?" I thumped his cup down in front of him.

"What does it matter what she's called? We need to figure out how to find Angela."

"You don't know that's possible, you scared her away without asking." He scoffed coarsely and my chest flared with guilt, but if he really felt that way he wouldn't be able to mock at all.

"There's more to it, I know. She said it's an exchange: that she and Angela were connected before. That means that wherever the goddess had been hiding for so long is where Angela is now."

"Yes, but where? You forget that the whole reason Angela was here restoring the rainbows was to revitalize the tree and bring the goddess back. If we knew where she had been then we wouldn't have struggled so desperately for a year and a half to fulfill the sprite's prerequisites."

We were at an impasse. I would have to find the goddess again and question her, but now that I was eating my words and wishing I had kept my cool she was going to be that much harder to find. What could we do in the meantime?

"In the meantime," said Gill, seeming to finish my thought, "we can research. If this has been going on as long as she says then there's got to be some records providing as such. Even if we need to dig so far back into church documents, it's not some kind of unaccountable cult it's a belief system; they would have something written."

The dark outside my windows seemed to become a little less imposing. For the first time since I knew Angela I felt wholly glad that Gill was the one supporting her in this. I almost wanted to shake his hand. Instead he ruined the moment by commenting on the size of the room and the telltale meagerness of my wages: I could never keep a wife under these conditions.

Well, that was fine by me. The only woman who could even in the slightest pass my marital requirements was a ghost and he wanted her too. I didn't think my wages was top on my list of worries.

* * *

The next few days passed as inexplicably as those before in that they were average everyday experiences. There was no sign of a goddess, Gill's probing through the town documentation had brought up nothing, and neither of us knew the secret to seeing and speaking with these 'sprites' for any clues. We kept up with our day jobs and spent the nights paging through musty boxes and books with frustratingly little result.

One such night found us in the hall, the lights dim in all rooms but one, a thermos of my strongest coffee growing cool, and a pool of old articles surrounding me on the floor magnificently. Gill worked at his tidy desk, a little plastic thimble over his finger as he skimmed a line, read a little, and then flipped forward to the next passage. The only sounds were from the clock and the shuffle of papers. I was terribly unsuited to the task. Finally I could take no more.

"This is ridiculous. What is this even about?" I flapped a selection that was just barely held together by ancient stapling at him energetically, urging him to check it. His blue eyes ran across the text easily even in the faint light of the evening.

"A law guarding against the adoption of a child under the age of sixteen while outside of wedlock on a Tuesday,"

I dropped my shoulders in disgust, "See, it's exactly this kind of pointless thing that makes me lose the will to live here. Why is this even amongst the stuff we are meant to be checking?"

"The filing system here is actually quite atrocious. Without a read-through of everything over a certain age we might miss what we're looking for. You could make yourself useful and mark the subject heading on the ones you check to better sort the cases for the next time." He made a point of showing that he was doing just that on the file that he held. I pinched the bridge of my nose a bit too strongly so that the motion cleared my tired and cloudy vision promptly.

"Trust me, there's not going to be a next time." I replied nasally, through the pinch.

"If you're tired you can just go. I work better on my own without any distraction any way." He set aside his headed file-folder and picked up the next one. "And you'll be happy to know that rule is no longer under jurisdiction."

"Why would I be happy!" I gathered up the papers I had scattered so thoroughly, agreeing with him for once that I was being more a nuisance than an aid. "Next time…lets put on the radio or something, I don't know. This is slowly but surely driving me insane." I brushed dust from my apron that I had neglected to take off after my shift and replaced the pile of filing back in its box before heading for the exit. Even though the days had passed almost amicably Gill couldn't resist driving one final reprimand into me as I left.

"Next time you might think twice before you run your mouth at our greatest source of information."

I was too exhausted to disagree, "Yeah, yeah."

Albeit paperwork was definitely not my forte I still wanted to sleep with the satisfaction of having at least tried to progress. I tool the long road home, winding through town once and climbing the hill past the church to gaze surreptitiously across the lake for any white-dressed figures dancing mysteriously. My efforts came to no avail but I collapsed into my bed feeling a little less discouraged than when I was perusing ridiculous and outdated laws.

Sleep came easily. Despite the consistent late nights I was still awake before nine each morning. My body was running on the fumes of my willpower. No matter how well I fed myself, soon the fumes would run out and I would need to rest. Jin would have a field-day with that. My fingers were still twisted in the folds of my forcefully removed work shirt as I drifted.

The dream I had was a memory and more.

* * *

_I shook the thermometer once more to check its accuracy. Sure enough her temperature has shot above the norm._

"_What's with you...? For a farmer you sure are sensitive to your surroundings." Her heat tolerance was incredibly feeble. Now that I knew, maybe it had something to do with the exchange?_

_She emitted weak cough, "I don't know. Maybe I'm not getting my 5 a day." She gave me a woeful look, full of candy-coated sweetness and teasing._

"_Don't blame the cook, I use what you provide me with and once again might I reiterate that you are the farmer. Vegetables are your major." Her bird-like chuckles turned to coughs as she tittered and I covered my mouth with a hand. "Be a little considerate, I don't want your germs."_

"_Then you'd better go because I'm going to turn this hut into a verified sick-haven." I hesitated as I studied her watery eyes and flaming cheeks, feeling something I imagine was a shade off parental. I was getting caught up in the memory, I brought medicine and left for work, but the me now wanted to remain and watch over her, ask her not to go to the festival; to just continue this way in comfortable friendship._

"_What's wrong?" She said; a new addition to my recall._

_The problem was never with her, it was with me. "Nothing," I countered. "I was just thinking that I'd stay." I stroked the sweat tainted hair from her forehead and watched her cheeks redden further, grateful that I could still rouse such a reaction. _

"_Oh," she mused agreeably, looking like a child that has just received the attention they'd been seeking, "I'd like that."_

* * *

The following morning was one of perfection. The air was warm and blessed with a cool breeze to keep the heat off. The sky was a crystalline blue and the birds were singing. I was never one to be moved by the weather, but it was Sunday; my day of rest, and Gill had asked that I meet him at the inn for some lunch. I felt the brilliant conditions were mocking me. I was uncomfortable with the idea both as it meant visiting my workplace when I didn't need to and that I would inevitably be required to make small talk with Gill whom I was fairly sure placed me on a high-level of dislike. Did I dislike him back? You could probably agree that we were acquaintances rather than friends. I had to commend his rituals though; eating at the inn and supporting its liveliness was so ingrained into his psyche that he'd even choose me as his woebegone partner. Another one to add to the growing list of admirable traits. It's a shame he hid them so well.

"I've ordered for you."

"I'm not hungry." I pulled the chair out and sat with a bored sigh. He shrugged and his gaze returned to his notebook where he had scribbled something down nonchalantly.

"Found something?" I questioned immediately.

"Marking down what you owe me."

I clicked my tongue and slouched back into my seat. I was a little too tired to be on my toes this early and he was either dancing around the subject expertly or he really didn't arrange this meeting to tell me anything of importance. I suppose I could at least enjoy a drink. I waved Maya over and she bounced to my command within seconds.

"Hi Chase! My, this is different." Her grin towards Gill was unmistakably greedy; gossip of my same-sex dinner date would soon reach the ears of our good friend Cathy. So long as it didn't hit Selena, I wasn't that concerned. "I mean," she flapped, realizing her poorly hidden intent, "you don't usually visit us on your days off."

"I must have missed you already." I smiled languidly, knowing that my sarcasm wouldn't escape Gill but Maya would definitely fall for it. Sure enough her cheeks grew to match her ribbons. Gill's eyes narrowed and flit between her and I momentarily.

"W-well, I made some pie today! Do you want me to bring you a slice?" She all but cuddled her tray to her chest, looking more girlish than ever. I bit back my automatic reply knowing that it was sure to be a blackened disaster made with salt instead of sugar or near enough. Maybe I could make use of this knowledge.

"Sounds nice, two please. Ask Yolanda to give it a splash of cream." Her face lit up prettily and she skipped into the kitchen.

"I don't want any," Gill returned once she was gone, his eyebrows knit deeply.

"You ordered for me and I've done the same, don't be rude to Maya now." My previous simper widened and doubtlessly became quite wicked. If Maya chose today to learn to cook properly I would eat my proverbial hat.

"You…"

But Maya cut him off with a brightly declared, "Ta da!" and set the plates in front of us. The pie looked edible almost lovely in presentation, but I had already prepared my way out. I saw the wall-clock and gave a quick flick of my wrist to suggest I was checking a watch.

"Ah, oh no. I'd forgotten that I need to check in with the doctor this afternoon, recent head injury and that, I'll have to take a rain-check on the pie alright, May?" I called to her affectionately so that she would be too caught up to see through my transparent ruse. Gill was rigidly floundering for words; anything he had to say could wait until we picked up our research again shortly- once I'd taught him this lesson. "I'll catch up with you both later!"

Amidst winking toward my dinner partner's staggered expression, enjoying the dessert called 'revenge' and heading for the door, I caught a glimpse of obvious white flutter past the window. Instantly, my reason to leave in a hurry became much more significant than skipping out on some of Maya's questionable cooking.

* * *

I don't think I need to clarify that I was amazed to see her in town and especially in broad daylight. Since the first meeting I had always imagined that she would while the hours away out of sight, in some mystical place that only goddesses could reach, but that was probably just my crude understanding of the metaphysical world at play. Nevertheless, shouldn't she have some concern about being seen by the other villagers? Other than myself and Gill, I didn't know anyone who even knew Angela was missing, let alone could comprehend the evident changes to her.

It wasn't long before I was allowed to catch up, how long she'd known I'd been pursuing her she didn't let on, but compared to the last chase rather than nervously trying to escape once we were upon the square alone she turned towards me and bravely squared her shoulders. If I had ever seen Angela wear that expression I might have apologized without knowing what I was apologizing for.

"What now?" She asked haughtily; as if he had any right to be haughty. But her aggressive advance had immediately thrown any conversation to come into adversity and that threw me briefly.

"Where have you been?" I said at last, stepping closer. Her eyes flickered with uncertainty. It had been easy enough to divulge her character even from our single short meeting; she was a goddess. She wouldn't lie, she was compassionate and devout, and if I managed to befriend her I'd have a better chance of getting information than with my previous approach of angry indignity.

"I am…visiting all the places I used to know." That surprised me as well. I had prepared myself for anything else; celestial magic I couldn't understand, but her answer was so human.

"Is that why you're here?" I asked, and she nodded demurely, her eyes drifting past me towards the buildings in town before her gaze firmed on me once more.

"It's changed so much, but I am still proud."

At that I realized belatedly that if this was a divine creature then opposing her might have gotten me smote on the spot; I was probably lucky that she was the merciful type. This woman had lived an incomprehensible amount of years nurturing and feeding this island with her devotion. It was only this mortal shell that stood as a link to associate us. I had never been a devout person and she had been trapped for a human lifespan, powerless to do anything but wait. If it had been anyone but Angela to free her we would never be standing here to measure each other up.

Nevertheless, this realization played out numbly in the back of my head and did little to humble me. "If you and Angela have exchanged then how long will you be here?"

"I can't stay." She seemed to glow with sudden sadness.

"Where is Angela?"

"I don't know."

"You owe me this much," I returned boldly.

"She's sleeping." She said plainly without any further hesitation.

"Can I find you again?" I was hatching a new theory. This connection she had with Angela wasn't severed yet. The only way to find her was through the goddess. The goddess had supremacy now but they were still one and the same, I could appeal to her and she would lead me to Angela. It might have been a dubious plan, but I didn't know how else to move forward and Gill wasn't here to guide me.

"Maybe."

I remembered something Gill had said. "What do I call you?" I folded my arms. When her watchfulness became suspicious I tried to smile reassuringly, "I can't just call you…_'Harvest Goddess._'"

"Why not." She crossed her arms as well, the motion making the plumpness of her chest under the fine cloth of the white shift dress appealingly noticeable. I diverted my eyes.

"Okay then…" I ran a hand through my hair feeling strands pull free from pins and reluctant to drop the subject. There was a soft sigh, surprisingly not from my own lungs.

"Sephia," I trained my eyes on her again. Her dissatisfaction had melted away leaving only the faintest traces of tentative resolve. I was overrun with certainty that she had just imparted me with something old and secret, something she had no small difficulty in liberating. "My name is Sephia."

* * *

_A/N: I tried my best to research Animal Parade's version of the Goddess -the one you can marry- but I had difficulty locating much script and I watched one poor-quality video and gave up. I've read Ignis' aka Harvest God's script and I imagine her to be the female alternative, overtly kind and caring and well...divine. I wanted to incorporate that as well as the struggle of mortality she must be facing. Although it's so precious to give up her name after declaring her love in marriage, this fictitious version is suddenly unbound by any rules of goddess-hood and able to live more freely, thus using her name and being a bit feistier._

_I only mention this in hopes that those AP players don't feel as though I've robbed something sacred :)_

_Might be time for a story summary update… And does this still fall into the genre of Hurt/Comfort? Or should it be Supernatural/Mystery…_


	14. Time

_**Time**_

* * *

The same old days passed tediously and without end.

If I slept I dreamt and if I dreamt I lost sleep. As an alternative I tried to be as infallible as Gill. I came to understand why he was so steadfast and the reason quickly became my own; if we allowed ourselves rest then we might mourn the flow of time. It seemed too long; too long for a regular missing person's case to remain unresolved and for those waiting to remain hopeful. The thread that held me fast to our goal was Sephia who had thankfully since our introduction made herself easier to track. Although she was relatively scarce amongst the townspeople I still found it uncanny that I could meet her and no one was the wiser.

"Hey," I set a package of my freshly baked goods beside her where she sat at the sea's edge on the boundaries of Brownie Farm. The only way I managed to find her today was thanks to good timing; I was leaving Souffle's warm fortifications with a bag of freshly purchased ingredients and she was a glimpse of fluttery grace through the gates the likes of which I had trained myself to be alert for.

She seemed unsurprised that I had come, and glanced at the still-warm parcel. Perhaps she had noticed me as well. "Hello," she greeted sweetly. The breeze from the ocean ruffled her clothes. Since the change of season there was already a chill in the air. I had always been sensitive to the fact that she was dressed in the very same summer outfit that Angela had donned specially for the festival all those weeks ago and, along with the baking, had packed one of my spare jackets into the brown paper bag I had brought. I promptly freed it and draped it across her shoulders which rewarded me with a troubled gape.

"It's autumn now, you'll catch cold like this."

Her lips pursed before she turned her face from mine. "I don't feel the cold," she was lying. The same moment her hands poked through the sleeves and she hugged its size around her small figure. I couldn't help feel a little pleased with myself. The action marked me worthy. Our few and far between meetings notwithstanding, this person in front of me was practically a stranger and I could only perceive Angela tucked inside one of my best coats. I was certain that it was the latter that sent the short jolt of giddiness through me.

"Let me guess, you won't eat either." This wasn't the first time I had cooked for her, but her tastes were amazingly few where Angela had been glad of anything.

"What is it?" She was cautious, and I tapped a finger along my jaw irritably as I watched her watch the package. Regardless of my efforts she didn't need to act as though I might have slipped something extra in today. Or that it might explode the moment she peeked inside.

However, I was genial. "Pumpkin. Fresh, in season, and very good for you. Although you are the picture of health."

This earned me a short glare and I laughed in spite of it. She wasn't very perceptive to sarcasm, but practice with me had made her quite defensive. Still, I was rewarded yet again with her interest and she carefully peeled back the paper to reach my food. Some of my best recipes had failed and I couldn't remember if I'd even cooked pumpkin for Angela before but I was relying on the hunch that it wouldn't really matter. Angela knew my taste above all others, and my confidence in that wasn't something easily misplaced.

Her fingers removed a slice of pie from the container smoothly and her delicate lips closed over the end for a pretty little bite that was too dainty for a farm-girl. I waited on her score without too much trepidation, trying to clear my mind of anything but the autumn vision we were set upon.

She swallowed without making any other sound and said "It's green. I can taste the earth and the island again."

Perplexed with her answer I studied her brilliant eyes with an eyebrow quirked. "Okay. That's a new one. Green." The pumpkins had been perfectly ripe, but I wasn't about to argue with a goddess of harvest.

She smiled at me, seeming to interpret my reaction, and spoke again more diligently "It's delicious. You are a very talented chef."

I waved a hand at her dismissively, "not a chef. Just some guy that cooks 9 to 5."

"Hm," she took another bite, "there's something else here." I blinked slow and sceptical as she made a show of eating the pie attentively. "Yes, I can taste denial."

Caught off guard, I waited for the punch line without realizing that she'd already weaved in the well-timed joke under my nose. It was only when she finished her slice and gazed back at my blank face mischievously that she let out a small giggle.

"You're funny," I said.

"Apparently not, you didn't laugh," she replied, putting on a look of thoughtful despair with her arms crossed and a hand resting lightly against her cheek.

"It was a good attempt though. I'm laughing on the inside."

"You are a fine liar." She directed at the ocean again, and once again the vivacity of conversation was overcome by a moroseness we couldn't escape. No matter how often we met or the measure of each other we could safely claim we had grown to know we would always be trapped in the truth that she wanted little to do with me and I was seeking someone different entirely. I acknowledged sourly that my pie had gotten me little success and instead tried to guide us down another route.

"Do you remember the lighthouse?"

"I don't." It was probably built long after she had ascended to her position.

"You wanted to see what was inside."

"I never said that."

I ignored her, "You said that it must be haunted because you could hear movement and sense someone watching you went by," The breeze tickled the fallen leaves around us and created a little swirl that made me both glad and envious of the coat around her shoulders. When it passed she was motionless.

"You don't mean me."

I breathed, "No. But do you remember?"

"Of course not." She rose with another wave of gold and yellow that drifted over the high edge of the cliff side raucously.

"Goodbye Chase."

"Wait Sephia," I stood as well, indifferent towards the container left where we had sat. "Gill wants to meet with you." I had left this until the very last as I already suspected how she might answer, but I owed him enough at least to ask. Her name was power, the moment I called her shoulders stiffened visibly and I knew she would listen.

"I can't give either of you what you want."

"I have no idea what that guy wants." I lied some more, since she already knew it was in my nature.

"He can find me." She continued to move away gracefully, the sagging length of my jacket the only imperfection in the elegance of her hips, her hair flowing over the fur-lined hood in tangled locks.

I let loose a beaten sigh, watching her go. It was the very response I had anticipated but it made it that much more taxing on me. Gill would expect that I cordially arrange the meeting and leave him to it. I could hardly see the fruition of my own efforts let alone place any hope in his, but I swallowed my disregard. Doubting led me nowhere; I'd have to trust in his academic methods once more.

* * *

"You're late." It was practically a catchphrase of his where I was concerned.

"2 minutes." I left my thermos on his desk, mindful to place it in the way of his paperwork as I moved to my usual corner of the room where the latest boxes still sat dusty and untidy. I heard the distinct thump of it being moved.

"Try half an hour."

"I thought I was being generous. You work so much better without distractions."

The screech of his chair legs made me grind my teeth and I think I also heard the creak of his back as he stretched. "I need a break." He stood watching the dark outside the window. "Watch the hall for me."

As if anyone that resided here might be a secret break-in expert and want steal some confidential records. As if I had any where else better to be. He was dutiful to a fault.

"Yes, sir." I ignored the urge to salute as it might be seen as too impertinent coming from me. I'd tell him about Sephia later, I was more than positive he hadn't forgotten his request.

He paused while pulling his arms into his well fitted, brown and becoming overcoat. "Have you noticed?"

"Noticed what? Did you get a haircut Darling?" I evaded his eyes as I poured myself some coffee, careful of the shake that had settled into my work weary hands.

"No," there was a fraction of discomfiture "The trees, the grass, the crop…"

"I have seen them yes." He pierced me with a glower and I winced playfully in apology.

"Everything is a lot livelier." When he caught my look to say that I wasn't picking up his meaning he rephrased. "Like the quilt promised and like the island used to be. The tree is reviving."

I held the cup in my hand tightly enough to feel it burn. "What do you mean?" I asked. "How can you say that for sure?"

We held each others gaze in seriousness before he pushed the last button through on his coat and motioned at his desk. His voice was low. "It's all there. Everything except something we can use." He began to shake his head but seemed to think better of it. Instead he only weaved past the desks and door without letting too much of the overly cool autumn night in.

I pulled the papers from his desk unceremoniously, my fingers immediately denting their neat crispness and warping the letters. As he said and in great detail the document listed the island's preceding conditions; disappearance of the wind, stormy seas making travel near impossible, insubstantial soil, inexplicably failing crops, drought, and even a concurrent pattern of stillborn infants. But the thing that was impressed upon me the most was the headline; clearly denoting that the page had been written by a zealous believer, a kook, or both, either way it stood dark and unerring at the top.

_**Harvest Goddess Forsakes Us; Examples of the Decline of Island Life Part One**_

* * *

Without Gill returning to speak to me that night I knew without a doubt that the text had put him in two minds. On one hand he had exactly what he desired: abundant conditions that meant the island could truly repopulate. His dream of the settlement thriving in prosperity was on the cusp of becoming reality and was well within his means should he just reach out and grab it. On the other he had paid dearly to get it. If he had known the price in the beginning would he have been so quick to press forward?

Had all previous residents lived this way? In constant need and fear that their loved one might be the one to make the change. Or was it simply the way it was; we were just too young and new to know it. Sephia would know but I didn't care to ask. In a way I could consider myself spoiled by my boundless unfettered freedom. No family, no attachments, no worries. And yet here I was, caught in the web all the same.

There was a buzz in the streets as I wandered aimlessly before I was due with Yolanda. I wasn't interested, I felt numb, but the peculiar appearance of Renee drew me out of my stupor. Once she laid eyes on me likewise I could guess why she had come.

"Good Morning Chase," her voice was like summer honey to match her plain yet charmingly sunny disposition. I had only come across her once or twice in my travels, at the annual cooking contests held on her farm and through her friendship with Angela, so I couldn't blame her for the faint traces of unease she generated as she squared up to me.

"Sorry to bother you like this."

In general people didn't seem at all deterred to talking to me while I ambled; I was both blessed and cursed with the appearance of someone approachable. Today however she was the first to greet me, so there was reason to believe that I was either falling to the mercy of rumour or my presence really did betray my fatigued state of mind.

"No bother," I finished for her kindly and she appeared to relax.

"I was wondering…" She tucked hair behind her ear where it had begun to brush across her cheek. "Have you seen Angela recently?" My pre-empted concerns, however expected didn't fail to affect me once they left her lips.

"Why?" I bought time with a return question but I came across as distrustful. To my appreciation Renee wasn't faint of heart.

"Well I suppose you've already heard but…Toby and I are engaged." I was receptive enough to congratulate her and she smiled warmly. "I wanted to tell Angela in person, since she's always been a support to us but she's been away for so long that I thought you might be able to tell me about it."

I gathered two conclusions from that: first that Gill had hired someone else to tend Angela's herd and second that Angela's absence may not have escaped the entire island as well as previously thought. My respect for this girl grew palpably in mere seconds.

"She's on holiday." I said at last. Feeling utterly tired.

"To see her parents?" she enquired in turn, looking encouraged. "I'm surprised she didn't tell me but maybe it was an emergency."

As far as she seemed to be absorbed in denial I couldn't fault her. With submission hanging heavy on my shoulders I was nodding when Toby arrived to grasp her hand gently. He was like mountain smoke to her agreeable tartan; placid and transparently content. At the contact of their skin a blush rose to their faces as though they were doing something explicit somewhere public.

"Congratulations to you both," I bowed some measure of politeness and moved away. Renee managed to get the last word before I was gone. She waved her free hand over her head and called to me, effortlessly sociable.

"It's a shame she can't be here, but I hope you will come Chase!"

I hardly heard her ramble out the date before I was within the refuge of the inn's steady walls.

* * *

After my shift at the bar I headed towards Gill.

Cathy and Maya had been beside themselves trying to illicit information and have me confide whatever was making me so bedraggled and snappish, but once I had flung a slab of butter in dirty protest against the wall they soon kept their distance. I rarely allowed my temper to reach such a high. The night was blurred with burnt offerings and careless messes.

Although I could only just convince one foot in front of the other, when I arrived at the Hall I was met with dark windows and heavy locked doors. Apparently I wasn't the only one at his wit's end. Gill was enforcing a night of compulsory vacation. I was quick to anger at this restraint even if I knew it was for the best. The door received a resolute kick that hurt my toes more than it scratched the paint. At home I fell into bed with my sandals on.

A lone loon cried from the lake, stirring the silence that enveloped my humble dwelling. I can't remember the last time I saw or heard a loon. Since the discovery of the article 'Decline of Island Life Part One' I had inadvertently been creating a tick-sheet within the muddy confines of my brain. I wanted to mark every change I noticed for myself subjectively, rather than trust the similarities Gill had presented. I loathed to acknowledge anything. Each healthy transformation only sent me further into my downwards spiral. Only so much could be tallied up to sleep deprivation.

My faith was dwindling, my mind a distressing blank when I tried to wring it for argument.

There was a beautiful vibrant place trying to catch me up in its cheer, trying to set me at ease so that I might settle and enjoy my young life in a way I had never allowed: to make a home for myself. Yesterday there were so many leaves still clinging to the high branches of the trees outstretched like fingertips hailing the sky. There was crop available for purchase the likes of which we were only before able to promote chemically, and the sun shone long and effortless upon our crystalline shores abundant with fish ripe for the taking. One sweep and you might catch one with your hand, alive and writhing. Here was peace, here was Eden. Today there may have been the tiresome trials of routine but tomorrow there would be a wedding.

And who was I to disagree? Who was I to take it all away? The question of myself lingered an infuriating void upon my tongue even as I succumbed to slumber. My grip on the vision of that girl, the one it was all about, had waivered if only fleetingly. The human consciousness was such a frail and flimsy thing.

* * *

_She dipped a toe in the ocean, languid and peaceable. The ripples ran through me. The sunlight was too bright for me to fully devour her with my eyes. Instead I tried to pull her closer but she held me at bay with one finger to my chest._

"_What are you fighting so hard?" she said, like liquid sunshine. Her doe-like brown eyes were swimming with compassion but I noted more keenly something akin to annoyance. Not the goddess in her mask, but Angela as I remembered. "Always, always… such a struggle with you."_

"_You should know what. I can't stay here like this. I know too much." The water ran under her, bathing her in radiance. I was stood at the shore but I felt leaden, stone gray and insignificant here._

"_But I don't know." She smiled but it was completely devoid of regret. "You never told me."_

_My rebuttal was instant, my automatic and naive argument consistent even in dreams, but as I watched her fumble a seashell to her ear, replacing the true sound of the sea with an imitation created by the beating of her heart I found the words die on my lips. Unchangeable, futile and compliant. _

"_You never gave me the chance." But she had. She had._

* * *

_A/N: A bit of a short chapter but alas. I feel sorry for every single character mentioned in this chapter. Except maybe Toby, but he's more like a prop as I write him than a character. Sephia is trying valiantly to be recognized as herself and move on, Gill is struggling with the price of dreams, Chase is fighting a slow battle and losing, and poor Cathy/Maya combo are suffering Chase's scary agitation! I imagined the lightheartedness lasting longer but the passing of time is both a balm and a bane; in short sleep deprivation makes bad things worse._


	15. Thunder

_**Thunder**_

_Edit: 3am errors fixed._

* * *

My arms folded and unfolded as I leaned painfully against the shabby fencing that stuck out in patches around Maple Lake. So near to my home and some better way to expend my time- sleep, I felt most acutely in this instance- and yet I had definitely caught that surreptitious glare from Gill that combined with his rash-red face meant if I slipped away I'd be made to regret it later. I hadn't even bothered with a jacket today and the wind was tearing through my fatigued bones with a vengeance. Something was owed.

I had slept until noon. Solid, dreamless sleep like the dead and I woke up with the sheets tangled around my middle and a headache pounding steadily in the back of my skull. Dazed, I had struggled to free myself from the bedding and mused upon just how one wakes up with such a headache without previously enjoying a night of binge drinking. At that time the clouds still loomed in thick gloomy clumps; immovable and casting shadows across the dark lake's rippling length. If sunshine did little to cheer me than the murkiness of today's weather did even less.

I hadn't bothered to call and let Yolanda know I would be missing today's lesson. It was probable that I wouldn't show for the bar shift either. It was entirely unlike me to be anything but straightforward with Jake. I was always vigilant never to test the tenuous bonds I held with the family. Without them I wasn't sure there would be a place for me on the island.

I stood on a threshold; numbly weighing the consequences of my apathy.

Back in the present, the source of Gill's discomfort was regarding him diligently as his stammer evened and mechanically jerking hands expressed his concerns poorly. Sephia had an altogether gentler air to her when it came to Gill. Her palm would touch his knee in reassurance, her smile was easy, and her gaze was almost maternal. I didn't have to struggle with any kind of jealousy, but it was mildly irritating to think she was going to hold a grudge for that first meeting until we eventually parted ways. I caught my mouth in an uncharacteristically deep scowl. I watched the leaves tumble past my feet instead of overseeing their discussion too blatantly. The breeze carried most of their words away at any rate.

There were imminent weather warnings, however reliable, which meant that most of the residents chose to hole up indoors. Coincidentally that made today the perfect opportunity. The rendezvous would go uninterrupted, and I wasn't really required to stand watch; so as I was still stood here did this somehow define me as Gill's wingman? I pulled a ghost-like and withered leaf from my hair where it had caught and it practically disintegrated at my touch.

The impending storm and our ex- goddess concerned me somewhat. She'd probably wait it out in some dingy cave on the coastline just barely devoid of life other than blind fish and the odd slug that was only a chromosome away from the classification of slime and had lived stuck the rock wall since the day it was born. That sounded like her. She was likely to drown that way as well.

In great contrast to my appointments with Sephia, I imagined Gill's would end with a handshake; business well done. But that was naïve of me. I continued to direct my gaze to the lightly painted stucco of Toby's house as my ear caught them kissing their goodbyes cheek to cheek. When he appeared at my side blush harsh across his finely shaped cheekbones and lips pulled in a dramatically straight line I guessed that the overly familiar farewell had been her idea. She couldn't even be excused for ignorance; his feelings for Angela were already pointedly known fact no matter how rarely discussed. I almost expected to find a provocative smile lingering on her face when I turned around, but like so many times before it when I did she was already gone.

I had the distinct hunch that the Inn had probably barred their doors by now, so I relieved myself of my worries and decided whatever needed dealt with would wait until tomorrow. Gill needed his usual tomato-based meal to think through and appreciate the details of his goddess-encounter before he would tell me what it was about, so I generously offered up the use of my house and cooking ability. I didn't see it as that much of a compromise on my part since it meant I wouldn't have to traverse any further in the gradually worsening winds. Providing we finished this up before he became incapable of seeing a foot in front of the other to get back home I'd be enjoying that restful and necessary sleep again before long.

My fridge was desperately lacking in anything that matched much since I usually planned ahead and bought what I needed rather than stocking in general. I had a can of tinned tomato that would satisfy my guest's palate but I had to be quite creative with the rest. If I could ever be trusted with solely minding another living thing I would keep a greenhouse.

Starting with a batch of rice I decided that a gumbo would be the best for such a mishmash of ingredients. I was heating the oil and dicing some spare peppers, sausage, and okra as Gill sighed resignedly from my table. I had to commend us both on our ease in the others presence, it went to show that despite our differences _time makes fools of us all_. There was some strange yet heavy shared dependency between us.

"How did it go?" The pepper sliced easily under my knife; a bit too soft to be fresh but in the pot it wouldn't matter.

"It really isn't her." He came back with tiredly, but there was fierce honesty behind it.

I never would have predicated he might have really hoped it could be otherwise after all and he was holding onto that miniscule hope with dedication, but it was so easily trodden. I suppose when it came to her there was still some part of me he found difficulty in trusting. But I didn't liberate any sort of snide remark; he was digesting enough as it was. I understood. I'd already been there myself.

"No," I said and I tossed the ingredients into the frying pan where they began to sizzle instantly until I doused it all in the tomato.

Since it seemed as though Gill had little else to account for from the meeting I did the rest of the cooking in silence and he aimed his gaze out the window where the gusts were tearing at the reeds and the odd smatter of rain would ping against the glass dissonantly.

* * *

In lieu of the rest I so craved, and against better judgement, I began to move.

I was once again without a coat to protect me from the elements and scraping my nails blindly to find the key to her door under its rock. The rain began to pelt down in earnest the moment I found shelter under the stooped roofing. My toes squeaked against the damp within my sandals as I approached the door, key extended, jamming and twisting it until I heard the lock click.

Indoors was the same as I'd left it. Evidently there wasn't a goddess who also had the skill of lock-picking or the common knowledge of natural hiding places for keys; doormat, hidden hook along the frame, obvious stone near the step. Or maybe she had never returned to this farm for guilt. As though it were her curse.

I kicked off my shoes and slid along the smooth wood flooring to Angela's bedside. Memories of her sleeping face, overly familiar and stirring rushed my mental barriers. Sick with fever, sick with cold, sick with heatstroke a million leagues away, she was always plagued with something and I always found myself biting back a lecture.

Vegetables are good this time of year. (Eat more) Why are you so energetic? (Slow down) What is it? (_Please don't make me worry.)_

I sat on the bed, creasing the duvet and leaving spare droplets of rain I had collected upon her pillow. The stains looked as if they could have been tears. Time became indistinct as I lingered. Everything was so stale and lifeless now. The dust I had swept away had resettled in a fine layer upon her sparse furnishings, making everything even grayer in the low lighting. The fridge was likely to be full of items long past their use-by-date.

As I pushed myself forward to lean towards the small dresser of drawers the heel of my foot touched upon something boxed and hidden behind the frill of the bed skirts. And without much preamble I bent further to retrieve it; after all it wasn't as thought she were here to tell me no. It was a plain unmarked shoebox of ordinary proportions although the thin cardboard seemed to sag slightly with overfilling. The lid though still lifted away effortlessly. Expecting something mundane- photographs, trinkets, effects from past lovers, all the things missing from her shelves and counter-tops- once I saw what was inside my breath escaped in a noisy rush.

Fingers closed over the shirt, my shirt, which was neatly pressed and folded within the confines of the box. I pulled it free and revealed a second perfectly contained square of material. Unmistakably, Angela's Toucan Island dress. The rustle of fabrics caused an enduring scent of summer wine and sun cream to pervade my senses. Our clothes, untouched and preciously secreted, still carried the perfume of a holiday.

With my pristinely white dress shirt forgotten I gathered the rose leaves of the torn gown to my lips and tumbled into the imagining of what could have been should I have stumbled upon this treasure while she'd still been around.

Would I have been smug; self-satisfied to have her in my clutches? Or maybe unable to hide my obvious panic as I approached her with cloth in hand? Her cheeks would light up as horror clouded her eyes and her lips trembled while she searched for the words: _don't peek in my things!_ She would grapple the items from me and throw them back into the box carelessly and I at this point would have either dealt with the anxiety and laughed freely or asked her quite seriously why she had never bothered to return it to me.

In time she would shy, change the subject, and tuck her hair behind her ears as she pretended to be deeply involved with another task to avoid any confrontation. But it would be obvious, so obvious that we'd never have to face the fireworks and the mountain and those terrible minutes that changed everything.

I might have been a better man.

Without another wasted moment I dug into a drawer and matched an outfit of Angela's heavy seasonal clothing. I didn't even allow a second for obligatory shame before selecting a set of modest underwear in addition to the change of clothes. I left the dress and the shirt in a heap upon her bed and shoved the chosen garments inside the box instead to keep it free of the rain that was showering furiously outside, at least for a short while.

I stuffed my toes back into my squelching sandals with haste before the door was thrown wide to the storm just as a web of lightning lit the sky over the fields impressively. The thunder followed in my heavy footfalls. I paid no heed to the reality that the rain had completely soaked me through within the first few yards taken or that the wind had reached a new typhoon-like high and pulled my hair loose of its meticulous pinning. I shielded my eyes and fought to see. I was driven by something uncanny and enormous and a thousand times stronger than the storm. The last time I was gripped by a similar feeling I had lost her. This time I was certain I could force fate's hand in a direction of my choosing. All that was required was the missing piece.

Sephia.

* * *

The storm had ravaged me. I felt like a bride jilted at the alter; desperate and searching. My clothing flapped about my thin frame and the box under my arm bit viciously into my skin as I clutched it tightly hoping to ward off the rain. Something in the back of my mind whispered that I ought to slow down and breathe. Reassess the situation and get a grip on myself but the very same voice was swept away by the wind and my haste. It could only have been five minutes, surely. Time was as thick as syrup in weather like this.

Celestial powers that were, a goddess that had once been a friend, or even a higher power; I didn't believe in any of it. But some prayer was answered when I found her exactly as I imagined her to be. In a cave off the coast where I had first met her, just barely high enough to escape the tide, a luminous glimmer of light in the rock face. I nearly fell in and drown trying to reach it, so I was thankful that the hunch proved true. Her eyes were like lanterns when they lit on me in alarm.

"Chase..!" She cried.

"Shh, shh," I hushed her hurried murmurs of concern away as she rushed to me with shaky hesitant fingers that floated through the air around me, careful never to touch. I dropped onto a rock that might suffice as a prehistoric chair to catch my breath.

"What are you doing here? Why were you out there?" She was difficult to keep quiet.

I shook my hair like a dog, flinging droplets where it hung lank and useless over my forehead and across my eyes, and said finally, "It's storming out there."

Stunned silence followed before she folded to her knees before me, heaving a heart-heavy sigh. "Of course it is, you stupid man."

With the short edge of her sleeve she attempted to wipe some of the moisture from my face ineffectually. Like a doting mother, like a worrisome sister, like a familiar member of the opposite sex. I watched the movement intently. I captured her hand and her eyes went wide and round.

"I brought you some proper clothes; Angela's clothes. They might need to dry a little but this will have swept over by morning. If it wasn't so bad out there I'd make you move for the night but at this rate a skinny thing like you will end up in the sea." I bypassed the sense that I had once again been a little too straightforward on the subject of mortality and rubbed my thumb over the fine network of veins in her wrist. She shivered visibly, but I noted that she was still miraculously dry. A large part of her hair still tucked inside the hood of the coat I had lent her.

"Why?" Her voice rustled like dry leaves.

"Because I still can't figure out whether you want to live or die." And it was true, she was an enigma. What was she doing here in this body if not seeing the exchange in power to its completion? The island was returning to its former glory, thanks to Angela. Sephia was unnecessary.

"I..."

"Why do you haunt this place?"

"This is...this was my,"

As her expression grew weak and pitiful my confidence was heightened to intoxicating levels. Since she hadn't pulled away from me I tugged her arm closer. Pulled that silky soft skin to my lips which I brushed tentatively over the small bones of her the delicate joint. I had missed her scent, fresh and invigorating, it was different now but this close I could still find it.

"C-Chase..."

I opened my mouth to her wrist for a taste, remembering how I had kissed her as she slept, when Sephia flung me off wildly and held her hands to her breast as though I had broken them. Our eyes met again startled and terrified.

"Hey," I tried, and her eyes spoke for her. The betrayal they spoke of was terrible and heartrending but I had to finish this.

I grasped her shoulders firmly and pressed forward, ignoring the chances that I might be struck down again. The muscles in her shoulders became infinitely bunched when I caught her mouth with mine. She refused to react as my lips moved in greedy passion. In return she was stiff and supplicant; wordlessly begging me to stop. Ultimately, I did, resting my forehead against the knuckles that were taught and white where I held her.

"Angela," there was a sob and I wonder if it wasn't me. "Come back."

She dug her nails a little too fiercely to detach me from her, "This won't work... I'm sorry...she can't hear you like this..." I was pushed back against the rock, away from the comforting heat of her body.

"Please, just go."

And I couldn't stay to question her. I cut my palms on the stone trying to get away faster.

That was the end. I had once again failed her. I could hardly remember her true eyes. The seemingly countess hours and seconds we had spent together were priceless and irretrievable and now wasted. I couldn't reach her, my efforts and feelings bounced away like dull arrows dispatched so haphazardly. I had never had a plan. Gill couldn't help me. Since the beginning she had probably never even been there.

This had been no more forced upon Angela than someone who is starving and given cake and a spoon. The only one fighting here was me, and it had all been in vain.

The hungry storm swallowed me up and I welcomed the sight of it.

* * *

_A/N: Finally, the completion of Chase's meltdown. We saw it begin in the last chapter and we see the conclusion here. I hope that it flowed nicely enough but you know...In trying to make the crumbling of rationality convincing I may have pressed the melodrama a little far at times._

_But mostly, it was just horrific. In so many terrible little ways. Things must get worse before they can possible get better. Chase it just having an ickle Heroic BSOD (blue screen of death) nothing to be too concerned about. **sarcasm.**_

_Half of this was written to Dragonette's _Another Day._ Perhaps that helped put __the madness into words. I don't normally pay much attention to lyrics but it's a bit like a mundane example of the situation: leaving a message on a machine, searching for a body-less goddess-being? (Totally the same) Mostly it was "Are you even out there?" that spurred me on. Yes Chase, your inner voice is a melodic female songstress. Maybe that's why you so crazy. _

_Quick. Go and do/watch/play/be something funny. The laughter will break up the overwhelming sense of tragedy and we'll reassemble fresh for the next chapter. There **will** be a happy ending._


	16. Grief

**_Grief_**

* * *

"Ah!" shrieked Maya.

There was a splash of something cool and wet on my toes that combined with the sunny blonde head that had just appeared in my vision resulted in an ungainly hop. Instantly I bumped thigh to rump with Yolanda who was leaning over the oven but managed to shoot me a startled yet definitive look of aggravation. The companionable silence had been ruined.

"Please be more careful Chase or we won't have enough batter for the second tier let alone a third."

The floor was littered with clumsy drops of vanilla thanks to my halfhearted effort. I looked into the bowl that previously held my attention so thoroughly to see that it was still messy with unmixed lumps.

"Ooohh, it's so beautiful! I want to get married next!" Maya glittered towards her grandmother and I, skirting around the bar and clasping her hands girlishly under her chin. I noted distantly that the first layer of cake was still cooling in the baking parchment undecorated and unbeautiful. Distractedly, I sighed.

"Shoo!" Yolanda snapped her hand towel at the girl, "Your incessant noise will make the cake fall."

"Chaase," she whined in entreaty, looking to pit one cook against the other, but I simply lifted my bowl and showed her my back hoping she might go away as I continued my beating. Much to my dismay she only appeared on the other side of the open bar again. "Give me a taste?"

"I said don't waste it." Yolanda bustled behind me, however watchful.

"Grandma! How mean!"

At length, once the batter was thick and smooth, I was ostentatiously deliberate as I tapped my whisk against the bowl until it was neatly clean. I handed it to Maya and smiled brightly. There was unmistakable sag to her puffy sleeved shoulders once she took the utensil and realized there was hardly a lick of flavor left on it. She pursed her lips into a fishlike pout.

"Serves you right. How would you like the kitchen staff getting an early sample of your wedding cake?" I said.

"You're both so cruel," she sulked. "I would be able to tell you if it was good or not. You might make a mistake otherwise." Yolanda snorted.

"Find yourself a man and you can have your own." I began to pour the batter into the mould carefully, appearing to take no notice to her response.

"B-but..!" Maya's eyes lit on me with all the allure of a puppy that had just been put out for begging. Her chin wobbled, her fingers clutched the whisk tightly, and she stepped up to the plate with toes of her shoes pointed towards each other cutely. As expected there was another hopelessly shallow proposal forming in her mind, the likes of which I had already disregarded many times but she never ceased in gifting me. But before she could set it free Colleen had appropriately deduced her mother's displeasure and was ushering the girl away in comfortable routine.

I smiled again, pleased with my handiwork, and my teacher eyed me anew once we were alone.

"You shouldn't tease her like that. You may be my student but family comes first. I'd choose her over you any day."

The deep wrinkles at her brow were creased with concentration in a way that charmed and provoked me. "Dear Yolanda," I stooped in to wrap my arms around her stout shoulders nearly a foot lower than mine, "what if I became family?"

"That trick won't work on me."

"I meant with you. Your eyes are like twin moons and your hands are like brittle old sticks with which to caress me." I laughed wickedly as her elbow found my stomach and sent me spinning.

"Do some work already; I don't know what we pay you for."

"I thought it was for my dashing good looks," I returned without a hint of irony.

Outside the sky was sunny and clear, a desirable blue with a scattering of fluffy white clouds that moved with distracting ease; a perfect reflection on the groom and atypically his blushing bride as well. The fairest breeze and absence of the seasonable briskness made it the ideal occurrence.

"We aren't some dodgy host club so you can stuff that attitude."

"We could be. Me and you. We'd bring in all sorts of clientele. My looks and your food; we could rule the world."

She muttered something colorful but I had already resumed my daze. Anything I said was given about as much thought as blinking; words fell free and loose and without meaning. They only served the purpose of filling the shape I was meant to take. I didn't even find it that difficult to do. It was like fooling a child; easy. A game.

Earlier I had tasted the cake batter for flavor and it was infinitely more delicious than any cake before it and especially so for a common recipe. My simple breakfast of dipping eggs and bread had shook me from a stupor so thick I might have taken a slap to the face; the fresh aromas ignited upon my tongue. Even the crisp clean air the storm had left in its wake was somehow wholesome.

I gathered the ingredients for the icing which would have to sit and set to a usable consistency as the cakes cooled and we arranged them delicately in the tiered formation. Even with my aversion to taste testing I was dipping my finger into each pot of sweet and powdery elements like a curious child, each flavor and impression seeming to awaken me. Yolanda had to swat the back of my hand and bid me to concentrate.

Laughing again, I carried on working through my lunch break. Even in the haste of preparations the remarkable effect of the holy union allowed happiness and tranquility to descend upon the island and I was swept up in it.

After all…isn't that what she wanted?

* * *

I dreamt of her again.

Even though I could change my daily attitude I couldn't deceive my subconscious. As I saw her, she was bright and blissful. Sat upon a moss-tinted rock in the sunshine with glittering water at all sides, her white bare feet dipped tentatively as though she was still uncertain of the atmosphere. I felt like I knew the place but I wasn't able to alleviate her worry. In this dream I was only permitted to watch. Like a recording that flickered without sound.

Over the sloping line of her hip a small face appeared, curious and bright eyed under ebony forest hair. Another near her ear, and again from the shadow of her stone emerged a purple-garbed fairy that fluttered to stand at her knee. She smiled in a way that wrinkled in the corner of her eyes and across the bridge of her nose and splashed the feet she was once careful off raucously. There were five of them, like wisps of color floating around her. They bobbed and weaved and laughed as the droplets from her spring showered over them like drops of crystalline light.

Angela smiled in a way I had only been witness to a few spare instances before; completely at ease, content and complete. I remembered the first time I had seen it and the shrill anxiety that had shot through me. It had been impossible that I could ever keep a smile like that. Every time I saw it I knew I was crossing the lines I had drawn for myself long ago. I had to turn back, retrace my steps, and retrieve some of that distance that kept me safe.

She gathered the smallest one of the creatures into her arms with a sweep; the little purple one that shyly followed the others with a permanent frown etched into his expression. She nuzzled against his hat until he yelped with humility. I understood then, that these things were not all as strange and otherworldly as Gill and I had imagined. His memories were old and I had no knowledge at all other than what he could show me. They may have been made of magic, but at the heart these beings were still only children; lost lonely children that had finally been reunited with a mother.

And that smile, that I knew better than anyone, meant she was glad to be with her children too.

* * *

Suits never became me. In a suit I became lanky and stiff and trapped. But as an invited guest and one of the esteemed caterers arriving at the event in my usual upturned collar and apron might be frowned upon. Even a blazer was difficult to pull of but I at least had better success with it. I tried valiantly to straighten my tie. In the mirror my violet gaze was startling even in familiarity and I paused to meet it.

Without a doubt I was an unusual combination of features. Long faced with a fine brow, straight nose, thin yet almost feminine lips, and all outlined by a mess of flyaway hair somewhere in between blonde and auburn but more analogous to my favorite fruit; the exotic red naval orange. It only served to accent the fact that I was extraordinary that I was one to clip and pin it back out of my eyes as I worked, which had gradually become more and more until it consumed almost all of my time. I had no one to blame for my appearance; all my known relatives were either missing or dead and I had no care to search for them.

Those eyes, purple and strange watched me like they belonged to someone else, my skin looked sallow. Yolanda must have used a good portion of her self-control to go along with my joking when I appeared so obviously unwell. I cleared my throat, an empty sound in an empty room, and straightened. At least time was a healer. My sleep pattern would have to regulate at some point and eventually the poison that ran through my veins might one day drain away or simply wait dormant until it became enough to consume me.

I affixed the final irregularity to my person in the form of cufflinks. If I had a mother, she might have been proud.

At the chapel, which was barely a hop, skip and a jump away from my front step, bouquets of Ruth's flowers were arranged magnificently and swaying serenely in the breeze. The ground was already littered with bits of brightly colored paper and petals. Hamilton the mayor was bowing his head affectionately as the attendees passed him to find their seats.

I sat in an empty pew where Yolanda and her family would later join me. It was my first time setting foot inside. The gaudy stained glass of a woman and small fairy-like creatures seemed to loom and mock me in my formals however brightly the outside sun shone through. Disallowing the fierce apprehension that began to rise in the pit of my stomach, I fixed my eyes on Toby who was already stood at the altar with his uncle in the most traditional of formal garbs and family crest. In one respect I admired him for the relaxed ease at which he stood up there, and in another I wondered if he could only because he was comparably more comfortable in that dress.

Or it might have had something to do with the fact that he was about to marry the love of his life. Again the blue woman mysteriously captured in glass shone dazzlingly upon the room.

Yolanda arrived with a well-groomed Maya at her heels, still starry-eyed and gleeful with the occasion.

"Everything looks so amazing… Toby is so handsome!" when she scooted next to me and made to greet me her expression changed to one of frenzied surprise. "Chase!" she gasped, growing pink and bashful as she plucked my sleeve between two fingers. "You're all dressed up."

I had hushed her seeing the rest of the church was filling and most people were beginning to wait attentively with their eyes on the groom. "Of course I am," I sighed resolutely, thinking it would have been better if Jake and Colleen had come instead.

"You look like a good man." Yolanda's tone was soft and appreciative, though the minute I met them her eyes set upon the altar as though she was reluctant to let me see any clear appreciation of me.

"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or not." I murmured back before Hamilton took the stage.

The wedding began in a flourish of flutes and violin. A white-veiled Renee appearing at the arm of her father like a translucent virgin draped in finery; the plain girl that spent her waking hours amongst chickens and livestock was no where to be found. Cathy and Jin's wife Anissa trailed behind her in shorter more conservative dresses to carry her train and scatter more multicolored flower petals in a delicate fashion.

As I watched the ceremony progress over Maya's _oh_-ing and _ah_-ing I recognized the sense of misplacement. It was Renee who had sought to invite me, and it was Renee who approached me about Angela. If the answer had been different would she be up there now? Kissing her friend's cheek beneath the veil and wiping a tear away as Cathy did?

Maya grasped my hand when a sob threatened to seize her and instead patted a small rumpled tissue to her eye.

Yolanda was a steady presence at her side that viewed the procedures with wisdom and poise.

All at once, my suit and tie became far too tight. I tried to loosen the knot furtively but my fingers had become slow and clumsy. Hamilton's voice was a disjointed rumble in the back of my skull and my temperature continued to rise as Toby took Renee's hand in his. I detracted my arm from Maya's grip as I searched frantically for a way out that didn't involve ruining the service. My palms became damp and my pulse sounded loudly in my ears, the beat backing the delicate harp music that rose and ebbed in waves as the couple kissed in a near melodic way.

Thankfully at the moment everyone was permitted to rise and applaud. Not even Maya noticed my escape back into the golden autumn air.

I tumbled out of the church doors like a man on fire, nearly tripping over my own feet. Immediately the breeze hit my face and cooled the sweat that had gathered on my brow. If I had been something of a holy man I would have begun to worry about my rapid aversion to the church's ambiance and the fate of my everlasting soul, but as I proceeded to slump against the shadow-darkened side of the building to gather my wits I hardly had the time to catch my breath.

The procession came spilling through the doors in what felt like only a few short seconds after me. The crowd was all glowing smiles and cheers as handfuls of the paper and petal mixture were tossed over the demurely bent heads of the newlyweds. With one last lingering inhale on the cleanness of the air I returned to the throng.

I turned to see Maya at my side once more, she clasped gently over my wrist and sent me a smile that was edged by worry on her childlike features. I shook Toby's hand and ruffled Renee's veil in an awkward yet brotherly way.

It was calming, the normality, and the joyousness. Once I might had carelessly shook any sentiment aside and said it didn't matter to me. At least now I felt I could lose myself in the noise. There would be moments like this. There would be triggers I couldn't prepare for, there would be times I might want to tear the world open at the seams. But I had to preserve.

For myself. For her.

* * *

The after party was as expected. We drown ourselves in alcohol and glee as we ate from the bountiful table prepared prior with plastic covered trays of mine and Yolanda's best finger foods. The cake was yet to be cut. It towered magnificently over the guests with tiers of white-iced blossoms. It had been a first for me so I allowed for some measure of conceit to fill me as it was complimented.

The more I drank the more boisterous I became. The rest of the merrymakers took no care to the change. Everyone was far too wrapped up in the exuberance of the evening. The tables at the inn had been minimized and laid discretely to allow for dancing. Selena had already begun the pageant with a sway of her silky brown hips and a toss of her hair.

Outside the cold night had fallen. Since I had little interest in the dancing I thought to tip my glass to the stars. There was no small amount of bitterness as I made the toast, but they only shone back on me indistinctly; burning out a million years past. The sourness of the alcohol filled my senses, and although I wished I had chosen something a little less pungent I still swallowed it down in great gulps. A rustle of dead leaves and footsteps mixed with the sound of my wincing at the drink. And then a voice from the shadows.

"It doesn't suit you."

There stood the only person to set my heart into nervous little twitches, which it happened to do from fear and knowing in the same moment I locked my eyes on her. Whether it was her or the secret resident that inhabited her didn't seem to matter any more; just seeing that figure sent me spiralling into oblivion.

"Angela." I mumbled, indifferent of the identification error I had just committed.

She stood directly above me without any heed to the merriment behind the nearby doors or the chances that it might come pouring out into the streets at any instant. Her face flickered with dismay once she heard what I'd said.

"You're pathetic." Her jaw clenched as she grit her teeth behind closed lips. In a movement that was both whimsical and full of grace she arrived at my side and lifted my chin. "This isn't you."

My tie hung loose under my collar which had already become unruly. My hair previously tamed until smooth now whispered in front my eyes and drifted with each breath. My own or hers I couldn't tell, nor did I see the necessity in deciding. I saw myself as she did: a drunken helpless shell of someone she used to know that's done a poor job of pretending once again. I may have done without parental guidance for the most of my early life but I was never made to be a master manipulator.

I laughed coolly and it bounced in the empty streets like it might have really been an echo of delight.

"Oh Chase... you've made this so hard." her forehead came to rest upon my shoulder as she sagged bonelessly against it. "It wasn't meant to be like this."

Her words melted incomprehensibly into the fog of my mind, making little difference and even less sense. I didn't understand how I could be blamed for anything. Anything other than letting her go. My anger is a rush but it's useless so I fling it aside leaving only the bare numb question. "How have I made it hard?"

It took me a moment to realize that it isn't yet raining, and the eyes that find me a tear-filled with so much pity. "Before you I didn't have anything I wanted to stay for." Now her tears are falling; steady rivulets cutting down her cheeks. "And before you say anything else I can tell you that I don't know. Why I've come to wonder about you so much. Or why knowing what's happened feels the worst when you're around..." She sobbed as though she was still afraid she might say too much. Finally she finished, "We were supposed to become memory."

Perhaps it was the impediment of the alcohol, perhaps it was the atmosphere, or maybe I had just lost myself so thoroughly that I didn't see the issue. I still tried to maintain my charade; I smiled and felt my lips cracked.

"Isn't that good? You'll get exactly what you wanted now."

Her tears fell for me, fell for Angela, and they fell for herself. All three of us mixed up in something that should have been impossible from the start.

"So just fade away."

* * *

The next day was synonymous with a splitting headache. I wasn't familiar with hangovers but it seemed that half the town was suffering so I didn't have any right to complain. Business in the inn was so slow that Maya and Cathy had been set free. Colleen was seeing to the recently vacated rooms with fresh sheets and towels and Jake stood at the counter dutifully doing the math. Last night had been a good for the establishment, and if we were lucky we'd get more like it. Now that the island was on the straight and narrow towards a better standard of life we could probably count on it. Weddings and catering would be one of the things the inn would specialize in once there was more market for it.

Yolanda coughed noisily into her sleeve and returned to sweeping in the kitchen. I was on pot wash unless anyone came in to order in which case I had the kitchen to myself. I heard the swift jingle of the door and the creak as it shut with something of relief and casually looked across the bar to see who I could be expecting to cook for.

The glass that I'd been washing shatters at my feet. The hand that's knotted in my shirt manages to hold me upright as the other fists in the air and slams, knuckles twisting during its relentless path, into my cheekbone. The room goes white for a second and my face sparkles with pain. I am not given the second I need to recover from web of agony spreading through my skull and try and comprehend what has just happened. I am dragged upright again by the collar and faced by the same heated panting as my own.

My adversary has hair that is falling in an unfamiliar mess, and eyebrows drawn together dramatically in a bunch. Eyes that have never resembled pointed shards of ice so perfectly as they do now.

Behind the little white lights that float across my vision and on the other side of the fist is Gill.

* * *

_A/N: So... that's a bit of a cheesy cliffhanger but I have wanted to start this fight for so long, I thought, why not put a peek into the next chapter? So yeah. Next chapter: more fights._

_I'm sure some of your remember me promising something like an end to all the sads and badness. Well sure, didn't you see it? No? Okay, so we are still getting there. I'm not sure where I was when I said that because that completely wouldn't make sense. We saw Chase snap and now we see him cope. It's still not right but it's a step forward. Now leave the rest to Gill; the true hero. (hahaha)_

_I hope that the dialogue between Sephia and Chase wasn't too confusing because he was inebriated. There's still a lot she doesn't want to say but it'll all become clear in the next installment. Sorry this one took me a bit longer cause us brits had loads of lovely bank holiday's and I was busy being lazy._

_Four more chapters to go. Not much time left to review and tell me what you think, so come on, do it ;)_


	17. Hope

_**Hope**_

* * *

The second attack was too slow. My cheek had taken the full force of surprise but I wasn't about to take another lying down. Gill still had impeccable grip on my collar but he wasn't counting on my quickening reaction time. As he was throwing the second punch I lost my sandal curving my foot against the hollow backside of his knee and pulling his legs from beneath him. We went to the ground together in a heap, fingers claw-like as we scuffled.

The rush of shock and anger at his advance had destroyed any fragment of my already broken sense; I wanted a target for my frustrations and Gill had given it to me. In a second my height and sinewy weight gave me the upper hand. I turned him beneath me until I had him straddled under my thighs and before he could wrestle his way out I slammed my pointed knuckles into the concave of his eye socket, gleeful when he yelped and was one icy-blue free of his calculating glare. His fist caught my chin as I relished and the force sent me reeling backwards. My shoulders hit the cupboard doors painfully and my tongue bled under my ratted teeth.

The voices of our panic-stricken audience began to filter through as I spat the iron taste from my lips to the floor. I'd forgotten even where we were. Yolanda was shouting for me and Jake was desperately trying to hold Gill by the elbows and he fought to free himself. His eyelid had already grown puffy and purple. As my head swam Jake fell away and Gill was upon me again in an instant, one hand in my hair and a knee to my abdomen that sent me breathless. The world trembled on its axis and I think I saw Yolanda hit Gill with her broom. When my vision had cleared again Jake had grappled Gill to the floor successfully and Coleen was speaking hurriedly on the phone.

My mouth had once again filled with the tang of my own blood and my swollen cheek felt numb but I managed to string a sentence together nevertheless. I'd never seen nor imagined Gill like this, and now that I was bested I felt he at least deserved to explain himself before his father collected him.

"Let him go."

Jake observed me like a doctor observes a patient that's just been submitted for deterioration of the brain; with a quiet wordless pity. Gill kept the fires of malice and distrust burning in his single focused eye. Jake slowly released him but he made no further move toward me, he simply stood without bothering to dust himself off or straighten his tie.

"You're pathetic." He spat, tone cold and hard. The echo of Sephia's words wasn't wasted on me; immediately I knew how he had grown provoked enough to hunt me down.

"What do you want from me?" My pulse was heavy in my veins. I felt both like I might start on him anew and aim for the vitals and also like I might never have fight in me again. One mood motivated the other in a howl of protest. I didn't even have the energy to offer him my open palms in supplication; I just squared up to him in a sort of disparaged shadow of my former self.

He inched ever closer, and despite Jake trusting my instinct the proprietor looked ready to tackle him down in a hairbreadth of a millisecond.

"I want her back." Hands fisted at his sides but never rose to crash upon me. "And whether I like it or not you might be the key to getting that."

Nothing more nothing less; Gill walked out of the inn with a black eye and a torn sleeve. And I stood in his wake stunned and appreciative. The bruises upon my skin felt much lighter than the weight upon my conviction.

* * *

Both Coleen and Yolanda were adamant that I visit Jin. I tried to insist that it had only been a little clash between boys but the amount of blood that washed down the sink both from my mouth and the broken skin across my cheek worried their motherly instincts beyond logic. Jake while concerned had made it perfectly clear that my week's pay would be docked by way of penalty. The last thing a small struggling establishment needed was the rumor of bar brawling especially when it involved their late-shift chef. He sent me away for the day and specified that I need not return tomorrow.

Old Irene took one glance at my face with a wrinkled hand covering the gentle 'o' of her mouth before she summoned her grandson. It was either a slow day for the clinic the same as the Inn or I looked much worse than I knew. Jin appeared in the doorway of his office with clipboard in hand and blinked at me.

"Hm. Come in." he beckoned with the clipboard until I passed him. Charmingly understated; that was Jin.

The sterile atmosphere of his working quarters always managed to instill me with the same old sensations; guilt, sadness, fear, and isolation. And now I could add longing to the list. The last three visits I had graced upon the doctor were all related to Angela in some way. I felt the line of questioning coming before I saw it in his expression.

"Just a little scrap," I countered before he could open his mouth. "You should see the other guy." It was an ironic boast that I could count on Jin to see through.

"Need I ask who the other is?"

"I think if you wait an hour it'll be all over town." I winced sympathetically.

Again he gave the same "hm," of concurrence as he clicked his pen to the ready. "It doesn't look serious. Facial stitching may cause more scarring than allowing nature to take its course." The chair squeaked on its wheels as he pushed away to reach for a roll of medical tape. In an instant his comfortably cool fingers were pressing the cut closed and sealing it up. "Is there anything else?"

I had nearly bitten off the end of my tongue and had some serious sensitivity to my ribcage but I still answered in the only way I felt comfortable, "Probably not." A wry smile spread on my lips as I clasped my hands and leaned forward on my knees.

The chair creaked again as he shifted his weight back. The silence didn't last long before he spoke again. "I may only be a medical professional by practice but perhaps I can lend a friendly ear."

It's true that my mind was a flurry of thoughts I'd considered long banished but they were just as hard to liberate as they were to face. I heaved a sigh, "I'm not sure what there is to say, but thanks."

The pen touched the paper in a whisper like moth wings, imaginative scrawl moving outside the lines. He made no motion to excuse me and I made no move to leave but I did lower my face into my hands for a growl of pent up frustration.

"How should I begin again?" I muttered, hoping that a reassuring answer might come from this strange source of medicine and memory.

There were a lot of responses he could have given me: a reply in the form of a rhetorical question, impersonal guesswork at advice I was hoping to hear, even ancient fortune-cookie wisdom. But Jin stilled his ballpoint and gave me a long hard look before he spoke precisely from personal experience and insight worthy of his time.

"You can't. You can only endure. A trip in life will become knowledge, and the next time you might not make the same mistake."

The pen excused my presence when it began to write again; significance of comfortable companionship I had difficulty in recognizing.

"You can only take the first step."

* * *

It was simple advice, something so basic that I had once said something similar myself without realizing what empty wisdom I was allowing to leave my lips. I had never understood. Angela had let it slide easily with a smile and hadn't berated me for trying to appear mysterious. She always listened closely and tried to see past my juvenile facade.

How many times had I tried to deceive her and failed? Even now as part of the island itself she might be watching and anguished by the falsities I tried to fit myself into.

Gill probably should have punched me a long time ago. Actually, thinking back, he'd most likely been restraining himself since the first time we measured up at the bar. Angela would accept my inconsistency and I would hide behind the pretense that we were friends, if I ever took a step too far I could simply retract my foot and no one would be the wiser. But Gill would never willingly permit it; whether it was in Angela's defense or I was simply the type of person he hated the most his approach was finally beginning to make sense to me.

_She doesn't belong to you either._

In truth I didn't have any right to go after her. I had leveled with her from the start, then turned back on myself at the slightest indication of having to hand her over to someone else, grown scared of the implications and finally pushed her away once more. Despite all of my conflicting feelings I had always fallen back on the same foolish reassurance: she was mine. No matter how I pushed and pulled, no matter how I spoiled her, she would always be there when my need was greatest.

Even in the face of all that Gill wouldn't allow me to simply give up. From everything I knew of him, in all the long hours we put in at the hall, and our awkwardly sociable meals and meetings, I had never realized how truly selfless he was.

I still didn't see what there was left for me to try, or even why he was so convinced I would be able to do it. I had yet to regain any of my previous confidence. But if Gill wasn't in any worse trouble than I after our little tiff I'd very much like to discuss it over with him once more.

* * *

"Don't hit me again."

Snow was falling. Since Sephia was the one enjoying my thick faux-fur-lined coat I had opted for a sweater and scarf to protect me from the chill. When I approached the door to the Mayor's stately two story home I immediately tucked my chin inside the scarf's warmth and braced myself for more pain.

I wasn't a masochist I just didn't know Hamilton all that well. Even if he stood at a very unimpressive four foot nothing he might be the overprotective type of father and have my scent in his nose.

Fortunately it was Gill that came to the door and heard my flat scarf-distorted demand. "I won't." He folded his arms looking uncomfortable. Like my taped cheek he was also sporting a plaster across the arch of his eyebrow, the bruise beneath it was dark and imposing although the cerulean of his eye still glittered dimly.

"Thanks," I said, looking aside mildly. It was a difficult conversation to embark upon so I settled to wait for his prompt. I didn't expect him to do a silly thing like invite me in but I was still surprised when he disappeared for a moment and returned with jacket donned.

We walked under the hazy streetlamps with sleet crunching under our footfalls and a magnitude of silence between us. The roads were deserted; chimney's puffed rapidly with stove-smoke from the year's first true effort at indoor heating. We reached the beach and the dock with trepidation. The ocean spanned out in front of us in an impossible length of untouchable black.

"If you want to ask me what we're meant to do now," he breathed a steamy cloud that dissipated into the air within seconds, "then I'll save you the effort. I don't know."

"Ah," I replied lamely. In my epiphanies Gill was an unstoppable force barreling forward even when he hit a wall. Also I hadn't anticipated the conversation beginning before I'd even had the chance to agree, but I suppose my attendance had been enough.

"But it's obvious that Sephia isn't going to help us." I sighed too; we'd spent so much time mystified by her existence when it was all for naught. "The next course of action might be the tree, but all that remains of it are overgrown useless roots. No one knows where the actual trunk is anymore."

"But Sephia would," I tucked my hands into the pockets of my sweater and set my eyes on the moon. She might not be the key but she certainly had the knowledge. We had spent time not only trying to solve the puzzle but also in getting to know the goddess behind the girl. And even further back than that was a girl herself.

Gill pinned me with a glare without even needing to turn his head. "I doubt she'll tell you anything."

"So? You guys seem pretty friendly yourselves."

"Dismiss the idea. I can't stand the woman." I tried to hold back the bark of laughter that rose and failed. Gill gave a start and fixed his good eye on me in heated surprise.

"I'm sorry, it's just… that's so unexpected."

"She's greedy,"

"She used to be your god," I laughed again.

"It's unforgivable," he finished. I felt sorry knowing that Sephia had gained both of our distrust from the start, but also quite glad that my original encounter with her reflected his opinion as well.

"I'm not sure it is her fault any more. I think she's just part of the cycle."

"She's the only one available to blame." I nodded. It was sad but true. That was the price she had to pay for inheriting the body of our beloved whether it was fair on her or not.

As if on cue a telltale shadow that flitted across sand. It was further down the beach but not safe from the lamplight, in an instant the mistake was realized and it disappeared further into the darkness. Gill's eyebrow twitched menacingly and I knew he had seen it as well. His lips curled into a frown of sourness.

I clasped his shoulder in camaraderie and said lowly, "Leave it to me." I stayed as he hiked back towards to stone-paved streets. Before he was too far out of earshot I shouted to him.

"Gill!" He stopped but didn't turn back. I swallowed my pride. "I'm sorry!" With his back still to me he raised a hand as though he might wave but seemed to think better of it and let it drop back down to his side.

"Don't be." He replied at length and finally succumbed to the night to leave me to my charge.

I didn't have to go far to find her. A few yards from the lighthouse she was curled up inside my jacket next to a damp and sorry looking bonfire site. I sat down on the opposite side of it and felt the coldness of the sand seep into my skin.

"How long have you been here?"

"All along," she said without a touch of discretion.

"So you know why I'm here?" I was overcome with the wish that I was a smoker. A pack of matches and some patience and our little rendezvous could have been a lot more comfortable.

She threw her body weight and turned on her knees. In an instant she was facing me from the cradle of my legs, hands steady against my thighs and eyes the only hint of color in the moonlight. "It won't do you any good to know, I can't stand to watch you kill yourself again. Please just give this up. I can't do anything to help you!"

Her nose bumped against my chest and her shoulders shook with silent weeping. "I can't do anything…"

It was strange; here was a woman I'd easily admitted hatred for, and yet I could no longer hate her. In all our meaningless conversations she had shown me one true thing that stood above all others: she was human, she held no malice, she couldn't even bare to observe our struggle. I understood that it was neither about Angela nor guilt anymore. She had come to know us as much as we had her and it hurt to witness our pain.

It felt uncanny but I held her; not as Angela or as a pawn in my plan to get Angela back, but as Sephia. After a long time her crying subsided and her breaths became deep and soothed within my grip.

"You understand we have to try though." She made no indication of her answer. "What will happen to you when this is all over?"

I had no direction, I had no conviction, and yet it had to end.

She removed herself from my arms, pulling my coat tighter about her small frame. "It has never changed. What happens to me was always meant to be." Her cheeks were red and raw, and although her eyes shone with un-spilled tears as she studied me they never fell.

"In the end I disappear."

* * *

A/N: I'm actually really happy with this chapter… most of it came out in a rush after doing a request pic for Princess of Dragons on the Ushi forum… so really we have her to thank! It may be a little on the short side but I feel like the characters are finally speaking to each other, heck even Jin. And this makes me proud in an almost maternal manner to see it all come together. Chase is learning.

Image is here: http:/ yuufee. deviantart .com/art/Gill-and-Chase-208236776 in case you wanted to chase the feeling nicely. (pardon the pun)


	18. Mountain

**_Mountain_**

_a/n: forgive the short break. I was dealing with the government :)_

* * *

I woke to musky paper smell and a kink in my neck that felt like it might never set right. As one is to do, the disorientation lasted only as long as it took me to blink off the delicate beam of sunlight hitting my eyelids and take in my surroundings. I was in the Hall, currently bathing in a pool of mistreated documents with a stool pressing against my lower spine as it pushed back against the desk wall by way of back support as I had worked. I rose to the clicking and crunching of my abused skeleton as it popped back into place and groaned, pushing documents from my person.

Across from me and still at his father's desk Gill twitched, unwilling to give in to the waking world even as his head bowed forward on his arms at an uncomfortable angle. I warred with ideas either to sneak past and return with breakfast to self-conscious praise or to use a nearby felt-tip to give him a comely mustache. I was met with little opposition as I padded past him in bare feet; the only sound the loose shuffle of my sleeves as I re-rolled them neatly.

Outside the air was crisp and the chill stung against my skin. I tried not to let my surprise show when I caught sight of Sephia's back across the square still thin and wrapped in my khaki best. Bountiful honey-brown hair spilled over the hood when she turned to meet me.

"Good Morning," she smiled.

"You should have come in. It's cold," I said. Despite the recurrence of my reproach her smile grew.

"It's alright, it's still early."

We strolled past the Inn. The shutters were still shut and locked. The town streets were empty of traffic. The tiny diamond-shaped window on my front door was decorated prettily with frost that I observed with a sense of peace as I jiggled my key in the rusty lock. Inside my home still welcomed us with modest embellishment and warmth although my absence was felt in the stale air. Much like Angela's house was falling into disrepair, the familiarity of the sensation reflected how heavily time waged on all of our lives.

Sephia who had never set foot inside any of the island buildings so long as I'd known her was like a kid in a candy store. The instant she shook off her boots she began slipping along in her socks touching and caressing each little thing; across the wallpaper, down each book spine, over the empty impression of a picture frame. Her eyes flickered greedily from one item to the next. I felt remorseful that I hadn't invited her in sooner. I left her to study the meager contents of my fridge to replace my apron in a movement my hands knew with perfect sureness; loop, wrap, and tie.

"Are you going to cook?" she asked when she saw me, eyebrows creasing after understanding the depth of my current poverty.

"At the inn," I held a battered white pinafore I kept out to her. The moment she recognized my intention her eyes grew fearful and she pushed it away with her open palms.

"Chase, I can't."

I draped the pinafore over the edge of the sofa and pulled her into the bathroom by the neck of the jacket successfully removing it at the same time. In front of the mirror, taking care to be gentle, I pulled my fingers through her knotted silken hair and began to pin it. Once it was up I tied a blue kerchief over the bun. In the mirror the only thing that kept her from looking like Angela during spring cleaning was the sea-blue waters of her eyes.

"Don't worry. Everyone will be sleeping for a while yet." I patted her shoulder as those cerulean orbs lingered on me worriedly in our reflection.

"But they won't understand." There was more fear in her than necessary of a possible misinterpretation. I sighed in a way that ruffled the loose locks of hair tickling my forehead.

"We'll be gone before they need to ask."

Today was Sunday. The Hall would be shut and we could hole ourselves inside for the remainder of it. I had always been darkly curious as to why none of the townsfolk seemed to be aware of Angela's mystifying disappearance and I had once wondered if it was related to the exchange, but I had moved past pushing the boundaries. Now I simply wanted to prepare us some brain-food and move forward.

Her fingers caught the edges of her sleeves as she brought them up to her lips and appeared bashful. She fluttered past me and murmured so that I barely heard her. "I trust you."

Jake had entrusted a spare key to me when I was eighteen. Like a sort of rite passage from one man to another. An additional significance of the familial ties he tried to build. It was only a shame that as an eighteen-year-old I was such a difficult person to contain no matter the amount of respect. I was more world-hungry than I knew. But even after my departure he allowed me to keep the key. _In case you need a home to come back to, _he had said. I wondered how deep his expectations ran and if I would ever move to fulfill them.

Sephia had her nose buried inside my messy and heavily marked copy of "Claire's Harvest Recipes." She was tracing my scribbled notes as though they were scripture.

We entered the inn undetected. There were regulars who would still be in their beds, and Colleen would be along for the morning's preparation in an hour. I guided my ex-goddess into the kitchen and set her to cracking eggs.

"Those memories must be a long way away; you're really terrible at this." She had broken so much shell into the mixing bowl that I had to put aside my work to help her rediscover the talent.

"Did you cook with Angela before?" She caught my look of discomfort and surprise, "because… I seem to remember a little but it's too recent to be mine."

"Will wonders never cease." I brushed her hands with a cloth during my deadpan so that I could move her to the easier task of sifting flour. "She had more appetite for food than learning but she worked hard. All farmers are probably like that."

"She was very happy."

The kitchen rag sagged under my ministrations. "What makes you say that?"

"I knew her since the beginning." Our eyes were kept to the towel, as though it were the mediator in our conversation and its guidance might keep us from giving in to any other stronger emotions. "When she arrived she only had her faultless determination. I could see how much she wanted to love and nurture but she always held back. You gave her something more, opened her eyes. It was that that made her ready to change."

"You make it sound like it was my fault." My former self might have jumped at the chance to fight her, but it was hard to get angry when she was offering me genuine insight that she had no obligation to give. And talking about Angela openly like this was something we'd never done in willing company. Although my intention was to brush away the seriousness in her remarks the words dropped solemnly.

"I didn't mean it like that…" Her touch feathered through the hair at my temple.

"Ah," I gave a small nod of consent and rolled my shoulder. "That's fine. It doesn't really matter any more how much was my fault or not." I opened the tin of flour and smeared my thumb through the white and then upon her cheek. My grin spread as she watched in fascinated horror.

"Hurry or we'll be caught. But for now let's keep you on the really easy jobs."

Gill was awake when we returned. I had safely relocked the Inn after Sephia had tidied away the evidence of our cooking before Colleen and Jake showed up. There was only one person who would detect my presence there that day and that was my shrewd teacher. Yolanda would notice my tracks anywhere but in her own kitchen it was that much more obvious. I smiled like a saint as I paraded the containers and carafe of coffee to the mayor's desk and spread it with gusto.

"No need to thank me, really. It was nothing. You looked so girlish as you slept that my heart was stolen a little and I thought I'd show my affection." Gill was completely oblivious of my garish manner and staring sharp blue daggers behind me to where Sephia glided closely and hid.

"What is she doing here?" His morning voice was perhaps even more cutting than the usual one.

I shrugged the shoulder than hid her. "She helped. So eat up. It's good for you." Popping open one of the tubs, I grabbed a still warm biscuit, making to stuff it between his lips before he could protest again, but his hand stopped my wrist. Sephia squeaked as we contested in strength. Since he was besieged with early morning lucidity I edged nearer to victory but we were interrupted by a sputter from the flask. Our misguided female companion had been hoping to dispel the struggle of testosterone with the offer of hot coffee. But much like with the eggs she showed her lack of finesse when it came to such a chore; under her fingers the lid of the carafe came free and dropped atop Gill's paperwork along with a splash of the fragrant brown liquid where she missed the cup.

Gill's grip went slack and a chuckle slipped free of me. "Well, there goes our lead," I joked, pushing the warm bread into Gill's mouth finally. He sputtered indignantly and Sephia floundered with apologies.

Once the mess was cleaned I spread our breakfast out neatly and we all ate. Sephia picked like a bird and Gill continued to mourn the coffee-stained paperwork as he flapped it uselessly hoping it might dry. I drank deeply and puffed hot breath against the cool glass of the window. In process of thought I made a loose shape like a tree before it vanished.

"What about asking Ramsey?"

Gill and Sephia both focused on me. "Why Ramsey…" came from Gill, although behind his gaze you could practically see the cogs turning. "Hm, Dale would be better." In a flourish his fingers reclaimed the small leather bound book that he was usually attached to and began to flip fervently. He bit into another biscuit and drank it down a second later. "We can catch him before he opens shop."

"Uh alright," I said. "What about you?" I wasn't about to argue to Gill's directions. Any movement was good enough and I was prepared to pass him the title of mastermind by now; I was little more than a lackey. But Sephia was at a loose-end.

"May I…wait here, Gill? I'd like to look at the library please."

He studied her with forced indifference and she returned to the hardheadedness I had come to understand; she didn't show any sign of the meek apologetic personality I knew belonged to a goddess over a free woman in her final moments.

He pulled on his coat. "Try not to misplace anything."

A light smatter of pink still graced his cheeks when she smiled then. Even with time and consideration, a smile from those lips would always have the influence to stagger us.

* * *

At Dale's we arrived early enough to greet the stunned and sleepy faces of Luke and Bo.

"Whoa… Is there a funeral going on?" That was Luke, his messy blue locks springing outside of his style without the fitted bandana and sufficient minutes to tame it. In a white vest and navy blue sweatpants it wasn't hard to discern that he had just gotten out of bed.

Gill had lent me one of his black overcoats since my sweater and scarf combo had become inadequate for the weather and I was wont to forget those most of the time as well. It was a little short in the arms and it was a poor match with my apron, but I was warm. Gill next to me in a match with his pristinely white vest-suit only made it further obvious that I wasn't a fashion-conscious person, but I suppose as a pair we must have looked quite intimidating.

"Is your father in?" He asked, and Bo hurried away to find him. Luke led us to the dinner table in a slightly bewildered manner and offered us refreshments in a boyish way only he could make somewhat charming.

"You…uh, thirsty?" Gill deigned to ignore him and wait on Dale's arrival, but I carefully laughed and declined.

"Don't worry about us. It's nothing serious." My cohort shot me a look of disdain.

"I'm not sure he agrees with you." Luke mused, and wandered away with bare feet shuffling along the finely polished floorboards and fingers scratching under that mass of hair in perplexity. His father crossed him in the doorway and had to wait for him to pass before moving his impressive size into the seat across from us.

"What brings you boys here?" his voice boomed, and I was suddenly glad I'd passed the baton to Gill.

"Dale," he nodded by way of greeting and the man returned it. "It's about the Tree again."

Dale's mustache ruffled as he grumbled some sort of effort to clear his throat or concede; I couldn't really tell. "I assume you mean the Goddess Tree over all others." Gill merely nodded; his jaw a steady line. It seemed in Gill's line of work it wasn't unusual to meet with other island departments regularly. He seemed flawlessly as ease and full of poise. "Alright, I'll try my best to answer."

"Thank you." Gill straightened his tie as he collected himself. In my eyes though, it was only an unnecessary stall for time. "We know that the roots are spread across the island. We're looking for the origin; the trunk."

Dale leaned back and crossed his muscular arms over the bulk of his chest. Despite his intimidating shape and serious gaze his eyes were soft and brown like a dog's and I couldn't help but feel relieved to find some mildness there.

"It's been a long time since I've seen it." He rose and went to a modestly carved wooden cabinet. It was this very reason that I had thought to seek Ramsey; his long-term residency meant he had actually seen the tree before. When he returned his thick gnarled fingers were practically covering what he'd brought back. He handed it to Gill and I tried not to let my eagerness show as I leaned over to inspect it too. It was a painting of the mountain. Atop it was a tree nearly the same size at the rock itself. Branches stretched far into the sky covered with blossoms, their petals rained down on a tiny handful of houses all made of perfect wooden strokes. There was a spark lit under my belly at the very sight of it.

Gill said the obvious and spoke for us both, "Mount Gelato?"

Dale grunted and recrossed his arms. "The very same." Luke came back into the room with a toothbrush poking out between his lips.

"Ahng. That's some tree. I bet it'd take a few Quarter Chops to split that beast" He took the painting from Gill much to his dislike; the reflection of his impatience was obvious enough in his eyes for me to roll mine. "I've seen this tree before. Dad, where was this done?"

Dale took the frame and put it back in the wooden shelf. Gill resumed his composure. "A long time ago, Luke. You wouldn't have seen in." He sighed wistfully. Luke took the brush from his mouth and knitted his eyebrows together not quite seeming to accept this answer. I watched his deliberation closely.

It didn't seem right to unleash a further onslaught of questions upon Dale when he seemed to already have given us his answers to the best of his knowledge but the painting only served to create more curiousity. Something in the back of my mind was nagging.

"Was there a path to the tree when it was still there?"

"Hm, there was. But a hurricane about 20 years ago caused mudslides that tore away the whole side of the mountain. Since the ways of the Goddess were already becoming more and more forgotten no one ever bothered to fix it up again." Dale's eyebrows weighed heavily over his dog-brown depths. I wondered why he had never tried himself but the regret that hung heavy around him made me guess that he probably did once upon a time. Sometimes one man's quest isn't enough. Luke began to fidget.

"Nevertheless, the island seems to be coming back to itself. I suppose it might have been just a nice bedtime story after all." Dale's cheeks creased when he smiled although most of it was lost under his mustache, and it certainly didn't reach his eyes.

Gill didn't buy it. "There may just be forces working where we can no longer see. What we might one day forsake doesn't then become false." I blinked at his honest yet severe sincerity and Dale released a hearty chortle.

"It's nice to hear that from youngsters like you. I know sometimes Luke thinks I cling to the past."

"I don't..." The aforementioned son and apprentice puckered his lips like a fish. When he crossed his arms it was apparent that he would grow to be just as formidable as his father; he was all muscle and sinew.

After that we declined another offer of drinks and left. The conversation had taken a far too serious turn for mere coffee and it was far too early to break out the shots. Luke seemed eager to work out his frustration via the axe and Dale didn't like to leave Bo at the counter on his own for long. We returned to the Hall with heads wild with designs. I didn't want to wait before we started scaling the mountain for this pathway but Gill hinted that he had something more to contemplate.

Sephia was curled up in the mayor's seat with her knees to her chest and a heavy tome to her face. She jumped when the door closed behind us. Gill didn't wait for her to recover, he strode to the desk and set the book away from her.

"We're going up the mountain. Will you come with us?" Her eyes danced between the two of us and I shrugged with raised eyebrows to say I didn't know why either.

"Why do you want me along..." She squinted at him instead.

"Because we might have some trouble getting there. And I think you know that."

I decided to step in, "How will she help us? You're forgetting her part in this play." Gill turned his eyes on me.

"Do you remember that night? Do you remember when I found you?" I didn't have an answer for him and he knew it. "When I brought you to the clinic it was because of that mountain. There's only one way up and it's not for us." Sephia's gaze hit the floor with heavy lashes. "We can search for another month and we might still never find the path. The only way up there now is-"

I interrupted and finished for him successfully, finally understanding. "By rainbow."

* * *

Our transportation to the Tree began in the most conspicuous of places. Thanks to stress, the overlapping of time, and that minor head injury I still didn't remember much of my chase with Angela on that fateful night only that I followed her footsteps like a dog and she neglected my pleas to stop like a demon. Apparently the rainbow that led to the mountain was behind my own front door. Spiraling high over the lake. When Gill had first told me about my misadventure I hadn't taken much notice. I was a slight preoccupied with digesting the rest of the information; the stuff concerning fairies.

Sephia hadn't uttered a single word since Gill's accusation, simply followed close behind me looking guilty once again. When we reached the base of the tree connected with the rainbow she stood away with her arms clasped behind her back. Gill didn't seem any better, he studied the flower shielding his eyes with a hand to search for the colors of our stairway to heaven.

I couldn't hold my tongue. "This is pointless. There's nothing here. How are you meant to mount a rainbow." I imagined Angela doing it as she did her ostrich from time to time. Ungainly and inelegant and finally speeding off in a direction known only to her. I was too frustrated to laugh.

Suddenly Sephia was beside me, kneeling before the open flower bud and cupping it gently. Her voice was a rushed whisper of music. Gill leapt backwards and straight into me as a faint trickle of multicolored light traced a path in front of us. Through the colors and plain as day the world still stood as it always had. Calvin's house, a little orange cat, and a stoney beaten path I travelled often for fresh ingredients. I had to rub my eyes like a child to make certain they weren't deceiving me.

This was a very strange dream.

In the dream I walked straight into that light just as I was meant to. Just as I had done once before on the coattails of a fledgeling Goddess. My mind felt perfectly clear the very moment a multitude of needle-like jolts of electricity hit every nerve and bone and lit my eyelids on fire.

She was so close. I couldn't stop now. I was going to be crushed.

Man was never meant to find the gold at the end of the rainbow.

* * *

_a/n: I could have kept writing more and more and more and more... But this seemed like a good place to stop. A lot's going to happen very quickly in the next chapter but if I need to split it into 19 and 20 plus prologue I will. I mean...and extra chapter. Who's complaining? _

_The interaction wrote itself. I was trying to get back in the swing and get the action going but there was a lot of character that made up the most of it and just kept going. I wanted to include more reminders of Angela and I hope I succeeded. Its been so many chapters since we knew and loved her that I wanted everyone to remember what it was all for! I also wanted to reflect the stark differences between Gill's relationship with Sephia in comparison with Angela now that he's finally concluded the difference... very different. He's certainly not awkward and tsundere with Sephia._

_a few small notes, I prefer not to need AN to clarify but I didn't see it necessary to include in the narration and some of you might be thinking: _**hey, hold the phone**_. Gill **did** climb the mountain with Angela for Edge's recipe. But since that was from Brownie Farm I imagine it as a different section of the mountain. Ingame there was little else but the ledge with the tree over that way if memory serves correct and the spring, bear care, and extra mining were all up the path of the blue sprite's rainbow. So yeah. Gill knows this, Chase doesn't, and therefore doesn't know to question it. Gill is omnipotent._

_I've been mean to Chase again... he was becoming quite comfortable. Still managed a sneaky one-liner in there though._


	19. Rebirth

_**Rebirth**_

* * *

Under the noise of my consciousness there was a keen wailing. Strong hands gripped the inside of my elbows hard enough to bruise and wet snow trailed little icy shivers down my spine as it mixed with my sweat. I hadn't been out long. I opened my eyes to the very same vision of Sephia, dripping with distress; the tears gave her cheeks a lovely shine of reflected day-white. Gill pulled me up when he saw my eyelids flutter, wasting no small matter of comfort on behalf of my pride.

"Can you stand?" he asked. Rather than test my tongue for eloquence I gave a guttural sort of grunt and a jerky nod in reply. The ex-Goddess was rooted to the spot, hands shaky over wet knees. I felt a familiar achiness and a headache that made my stomach pitch, but other than that I seemed mostly unharmed. The sizzle of contact with the rainbow left marks that couldn't be seen.

"She's not making this easy." I coughed. After two failed attempts and a fainting spell I had no small difficulty in finding my voice. The sleeve I had covered the cough with showed red.

Gill tried to pretend he didn't hear my disparaging sentiment and shook snowflakes out of his hair. My fingers tingled with pins and needles as I balanced the palms on my thighs and studied the seemingly harmless glittering colors momentarily. A masochistic curiosity bubbled within me to understand the reason behind the overbearing parapets of the rainbows that hid her castle. It seemed completely misplaced considering the trials and respect called upon for a magnanimous goddess. Said Goddess shimmered like ripples on water but I was convinced it was my eyes that created the illusion.

"What will you do now?" Angela's voice murmured fearfully. My heart shivered until slowly our eyes met and the waterey blue depths captured there left me with no questions. In the same glimpse she saw my resolve, "You can't be thinking to try again!" She threw herself against my chest with a thump and clung there. Not only was I unaccustomed to her newfound body confidence but the heavy contact set my ravaged nerve endings on fire.

Gill spoke over my bellyaching and her apologies, "I'll go."

Our pleasantries immediately halted, Sephia stood away from me and tucked her hair demurely. She straightened her spine. "You…you won't get through either, so please don't try."

Gill was beginning to boil and I watched her distantly as I tucked a disorderly strand of hair under a pin. She appeared to be finished with begging. So often she flipped between the pacifist and the dictator that I was beginning to question which personality was truer. If she was telling the truth on her part and she really had no further power over her successor's boundaries then she was doing a poor job of refracting our ire. Even with her obvious concern factored in Gill didn't seem in the mood to cease and discuss any more.

"Then make it safe." He approached her steadily until they were nearly nose to nose. Sephia faltered and so Gill was definite and threatening. "You may have this idiot convinced of your innocence but I'm not as easy."

"Gill…" She began with her sweet-natured amnesty.

"Don't use my name." Sephia jerked rigidly. "You did something to make the rainbow appear now do something more. Can't you see that your game is ending now?"

"But I-"

"Can't? Stop wasting my time!"

"Gill…" I interrupted, clearly seeing the line about to be crossed.

"You too?" He whipped towards me, his once neat hair obscuring his vision. "Are you so convinced by this harpy that you'd give up? Maybe you like this Angela better? Or have you learned nothing at all?"

The burning pain in the back of my skull numbed sense and set my fists clenched. There was a headiness in the air and his probing questions fully equipped with that blazing dark gaze put me on a sudden defense. But instead of any further inquest he span back on Sephia and grabbed her by the shoulders. His long slim fingers nearly encapsulated the entirely of her tiny frame.

"Take me instead!"

The island was eclipsed by silence. Sephia's terrified eyes were like little pinpricks of light in the obscurity created by the halo of her loosened hair. I could do little more than the same and stare at Gill in horrified amazement. His head was bowed and his knuckles were white.

"You can can't you?" he murmured, now but a meager silhouette of his previous force. "I love this island too. I will support it."

My heartbeat was dangerously enthusiastic upon my weakened insides. If not for the euphoria of endorphins I might have been fixing to punch him myself in the same sort of epiphany producing fistfight he'd graced upon me. But in simple truth perhaps I just wasn't as strong. My final struggle had been selfish and foolhardy and Gill truly had me beat.

Sephia's hands wavered and shook as she smiled and fought to find her own strength in the face of this once menacing saint.

"I'm sorry…" A sudden breeze hid his tremor as her palms brushed against his cheek. "It can't be you." An answer justly expected. "There is something you love even more."

Again, "I'm sorry.

We stood like that until the twilight finally fell. Whether Gill wept I never made note of; Sephia did enough for us all.

* * *

We rested fitfully under the same roof. Sephia in my bed, Gill on the settee, and I in a chair I refused to vacate from the moment we settled there. I felt a familiar madness grip me progressively as I sat awake and listened to Gill's reverberant breaths. Sephia's fate aside seeing him crushed by the weight of our task wasn't something I found digestible enough to sleep on. Dreams met me somewhere in between cognizance.

_"You look weird," _the clock ticked distantly. _"__How come you've given up on dinner?"_

I mumbled something in assent. Her eyes smiled once before becoming solemn.

_"I don't like the food here."_

Her dress span over bare white feet.

_"I think there's something wrong with me, but I can't decide what it is or what I should do about it or who I should tell."_

I wanted to tell her I was the same. I couldn't help her because I was always waiting for that something bigger than myself that might save me. Despite the sentiment I wanted more than anything to be something to someone.

_"Chase?"_

I studied her for every little detail I had memorized. Her honey-brown gaze. Her fragile wrists. The way her forehead wrinkled before she voiced her concerns.

_"I'm here for a reason."_

Her hair framed her seriousness sweetly, in a way that was difficult to deny.

And finally I answered her, "It can never be anyone but you." The sound of my own voice brought me awake in the dark.

"**Angela."**

* * *

The rainbow was still there, glowing elusively against the dimness.

I didn't pause to second guess myself. My sandals slipped away as I threw myself headlong against the snow in a running pace that would be impossible to stop with anything less than a supernatural doorway. The cold reassurance of the ground never rose up to greet me but remained firm beneath every premeditated footfall. My muscles trilled with the effort, unaccustomed to sudden bursts of exertion, and each breath I pulled felt like a cool burst of ice in my lungs. The effects of my earlier trials began to tell. My nerves sang and my brain pulsed. As I closed upon the colors my teeth clenched tight in anticipation.

I barreled straight through and the light never touched me. A giddiness rose in the pit of my belly and I became warm to the point of burning. I fought to regain my footing, searching for the nearby tree to steady me before I gave in to the swoon and emptied my stomach but what I found was only thin air. I turned over on my own feet and skidded along my front. Pebbles and ice mixed in a sensation not altogether unpleasant as they scraped along the inside of my collar. The rush of coolness on my bare skin brought me away from the impending blackout.

I took in great heavy gulps of air and was still. When I found the strength to lift my cheek free of the sleet and autumn debris I was met by the stars. The bright celestial bodies shone like perfect burn-holes in the ink black blanket of the clear winter sky. There was no tree companion to flower, no lake, and no lamplight to cast shadows. The moon hung pregnant and alien above me without cloud cover to obscure it where over Maple Lake there had been much gloom.

Whether I had somehow outwitted the system by pure strength of recklessness or whether I had this time been sanctioned entry by the powers that be was a distant celebration; I was up the mountain. My feet churned through the snow like led weights and were clumsy with numbness.

There was an obvious pathway. The more I followed it the more I came to remember about that fateful night. Each minute spent racing with the breath burning up in my lungs before I could use it felt like a moment closer to her coattails. If the girl I carried down that night had been Sephia then logic dictates that _she_ would be exactly where I left her. The mountain knew; the mountain saw everything.

I stumbled but once, confused by a fork in the road I could not recall. But after some minor rambling I took the longest path offered. It only seemed to make sense that she would be at the end of the more winding road; it was practically a metaphor for my misadventures up until now. I was fueled by elation so thick my ears were full of my own noise.

I forgot myself. I forgot the spring. When I entered that perfect globe-like crater observing the way the night sky seemed to cradle its roundness, I fell into the water. At once my teeth began to chatter and I sputtered to free myself of its ice-cold grip. The sound broke all reverie.

"Angela!" I echoed.

Dragging myself back upon the bank I shook my sodden hair away so that I might see.

"_Chase?"_

I spun rapidly, nearly loosing my balance and falling back in, my heart hitched high. Here was the tree. The trunk our long search ended with and the beginning of it all. My oxygen escaped brokenly. The steadiness in my legs gave way until I felt that the one true thing supporting my uprightness was the atmosphere itself.

What had Gill's plan been? Now that I had made it here what was there for me to do? Where was Angela when I'd been so certain I'd find her here? It had been so pitifully human to believe that everything could be made right with these final last steps.

The tree was nothing more than a hollow stump.

* * *

Long hours into the morning I remained there. In the shell of the former Goddess Tree with my back pressed close to its ancient bark, I rested my swollen feet and dried the clothes that hung about my fatigued body. The cold had permeated every inch of me and I wanted to sleep. The moon had deserted me for the welcome warmth of the occasional sun but the air was too thin to heat absolutely. Now that there was daylight I could tell that the fountain resisted change. Despite science and nature there wasn't ice or snow in any corner of the depression. It was weak now but I could imagine that in a Goddess's high-time it could be Spring here year round.

Gill and Sephia would wake soon. And without my presence or my breakfast they would be at quite a loss.

"I thought I heard your voice last night." I said to Angela's ghost, my tone low. "That's pretty cruel of you."

I considered the prospect that daytime might restrict rainbow travel and whether I could ever climb back down in my state.

"If you wanted to teach me a lesson I think I've learned it by now."

Under my fingernails the ash-soft dirt that had taken up residence in the crescent of the tree trunk crumbled neatly. I remembered the painting that Dale had shown us. If it had only had something as useful as a dated signature we might not have gotten so ahead of ourselves. The day the tree had been in full bloom was easily beyond my years. The stump was nearing petrifaction; the wood showed no signs of rot or degradation simply hardened edges worn away by time.

"You don't want to be found?"

The wind rustled the surrounding branches of other younger trees and brush, some still clinging to their last leaves.

"What about your farm? What about your memories? What about the people you've left behind?"

I found it grounding to push my fingers further into the soil. Amongst the pounding in my head and the aching of my feet I had to remind myself I was really here.

"Gill might have to hit me again, you know." I laughed flatly. "He can be very persuasive."

My fingers touched resistance. At first I thought it would surely be the deeper long hidden remains of the tree, but unlike the rest of the trunk it broke away easily under my careless pressure of my contact. Interested I brought my dusty fingertips to eyelevel to inspect the shard and found it wasn't part of the old tree at all but rather a delicate and dormant new life; a sapling snapped free of it's fine roots. I was fraught by remorse when I realized I had destroyed its chances of growing even as they were already slight within the shadow of the stump. I poked its tiny deft leaves still green as they'd hidden beneath the winter's surface and watched amused as they resisted.

"…Sapling."

I felt a shiver run electric through me and I jerked upright, still holding the tiny plant between thumb and forefinger. The whir of sudden activity set my pulse racing, the crater of the spring seemed to spin. Sephia had said something herself in the very beginning. The greatest clue had always been with me but I had been too blind to see it, now everything seemed to fit perfectly.

"We've been looking for a tree when we should have been looking for a sprout."

It was as simple as that. We couldn't get up the mountain because there was nothing here for us. Neither I nor Gill nor even Sephia held any connection to the old relic that used to reside here. The spring was merely a stage.

And I knew someone who had seen the divine new sapling and would lead me directly to it.

* * *

The look of absolute dread on the faces of my houseguests as I threw open the door was something I might have remembered and enjoyed later if I had taken time to absorb the vision. Gill's eyebrows drew close as he followed at my heels with a sharp sequence of questioning. Sephia didn't move at all. At my dresser I quickly shed my dirty and torn shirt for another in a lighter color, buttoning and working the dexterity back into my hands as I glanced at the mirror perfunctorily and evaded Gill's comments. My sandals were a difficult fit now that my feet had taken such a beating but any more than this and I knew for certain that I would be risking frostbite. They could wait a little longer.

"Answer me!" Gill bellowed finally. His face was pinched with a scantily concealed worry that drew at the corners of his ordinarily self-assured eyes. I gripped his shoulder and a weakness in my knees threatened to give.

"Come with me," I said clearly, matching his gaze. "There's something you're going to want to see."

On our way through the kitchen Sephia fluttered nearer. "Chase, you're hurt…"

"I'm fine." I reached for her hand. "We're going." A shadow across her features lifted beatifically as she allowed me to pull her along. She was lighter than ever, the coolness of her skin seemed loose and fleeting as though I might squeeze too tightly and she would crumble away.

Always the responsible one, Gill gathered our coats as we left the door swinging on its hinges.

"What?" Luke blinked at me slowly in a manner I was fast wracking up to his everyday early morning behavior. Dale was thankfully out.

"This tree, where did you see it?" I had the painting in hand. It took me less than a second to wrack my brain for the location I had seen Dale store it. Once Gill had talked him around my rude entrance and Luke was watching me with one eyebrow carefully raised in a question of my sanity I held it out to him.

"I don't really…" he was drumming his toes on the floor boards in effect of his discomfort but I paid no mind.

"Try to remember," I prompted. "Please."

"Well I don't really go far from the forest…Ah!" He thumped the bottom of his fist into the opposite palm as a smile grew. Gill resonated with urgency. "The farm! Angela's farm!" his grin was now beaming down on us full-force.

Gill sputtered "I-impossible. I was there not long ago and there was nothing." And suddenly I knew. I thanked Luke and thrust the painting into his arms, once again leaving a look of bemused surprise on his countenance. Gill was growing rapidly irritable with my refusal to explain myself but he believed it appropriate to hold his tongue until we were out of the presence of the blue-haired carpenter.

On the way out I paused for the shortest instant with a thought. Behind the protection of Gill's silhouette I made a vow and hefted Luke's most precious belonging under my wrist and within the open folds of my jacket.

"What are you doing?" He said once we were back in the open air. My theft had failed to escape him and Sephia who returned from the shadow of the grove gasped when she saw the spoils.

"An axe..?" Her eyes flicked from the dull steel to my eyes in an effort to understand.

"He won't use it." Gill gave a harried sigh. "There is no tree on Angela's farm."

"Maybe not," I agreed and said no more.

I led my little party back through the overhang of old root and branches towards the memorable shape of Angela's dilapidated domicile. The morning sun had dimmed and fair bits of snow had begun to trickle down to earth. There was hardly a breeze. Upon entering the boundaries of the farm it was apparent that we had been fooled. Her fields stood empty, there was no comforting noise of poultry and cattle, and everything was still just as we'd left it. But at the very base of her barn was a tree so huge and green and ethereal that we could only gape stupidly.

Gill was left speechless, Sephia was in awe, and I didn't even have the wit to make comment on our oversight.

It was the orange tree we had planted all those months ago. In the remains of winter with the ground still flecked through with ice Angela and I had dug the new Mother Tree's rooting place with our bare hands. An orange tree I had never expected to grow in time for fruit bearing the next year now stood in front of me like a behemoth with great drops of color beleaguered every spare limb. The leaves shone glossily and the fruit hung suspended in time.

Gill was the first to speak but I was already rushing away from him. He couldn't have predetermined my path. That was how I planned it. My blood pounded, my broken feet protested, and my loose and untidy hair drifted into my eyes but I ignored all this to utilize my momentum. The axe sank deep into the bark with my first swing. Gill and Sephia's cries mixed and became one under the gravity of my second chop. The heavy sound of the thick wood splitting was the only thing in my world.

**Crack.** "If you won't give her back," **Crack. **"Then I'll take her back." **Crack. **"Island be damned."

I was sweating freely, the strength needed to fell a tree something far beyond my abilities as a cook, only adrenaline and will power fueled the force of the axe. Once Gill had seen the damage I'd caused he stood aside like a broken doll.

When the trunk looked to be cut to over half I hauled my body weight and shoulder against hoping to break the last inches. My shoulder became sore and after a few more swings I felt myself tiring absolutely. Another push and I felt it move. The warmth of Sephia's shoulder as she synched her movements with mine renewed my vigor. We paused only briefly to appreciate one and another.

"Just a little more."

After one more fall of the axe, our combined effort was enough. The fresh wood shattered. The tree gave a terrible keening and the leaves trembled through the air. It collapsed upon the barn and sent dust and debris flying as the old building gave way. I pushed Sephia away to safety and shielded my own eyes from it. The snow-lit ground did little to disguise the sound as the orange fruit dropped from its boughs and thumped in all directions. The sky was a flurry of broken wood and leaves that merged with the new morning sleet. The effect was phantasmal, as though every shard and fragment held a light of its own that was released into the cyclonic aftermath.

I fell back onto my feet, fearful for my eyesight and hoping that Gill and Sephia had taken the same steps to protect theirs. Their names as I called them were lost to the storm of my own design. The clamor ceased abruptly when a resolute wind blew through us. The snowfall seemed to sigh. My eyes flew open at another more significant sound; the sound of a woman's voice.

There where the orange tree had once stood and fell was Angela. The dainty ends of her hair were splayed across the whiteness of the earth like a spiky corona about her neck. Her skin was naked and fair like it had never seen the ferocity of summer sunshine. She was curled precisely to hide her nakedness, although her eyelashes rested faintly on porcelain cheeks in a peaceful appearance as though she'd slept this way for an eternity. She made another sound like waking.

I moved forward on my knees and took off my coat to drape over her. Mindful not to look I gathered her up in my arms like a lost child, although I no longer had any misconceptions about my feelings for the girl.

"I don't believe it…" Gill slogged up behind me. "It's really her."

My hands were far too dirty with muck and toil to touch such an angel but I did any way. I brushed locks of her hair away from her cheeks and left a disorderly smudge instead.

"How did you know?" he asked softly, still in awe of everything he'd seen. Sephia appeared next to him as an uncanny doppelganger although her smile was entirely her own and she seemed radiant with her own blueness.

"I didn't," I admitted in conclusion. "I just had to show her what she meant to me."

The snow fell into the cavernous wound of the ruined barn. Oranges littered the field where once there had been a great tree. And the three of us stole away with a goddess we had ripped from the very roots of her precious island.

And yet the only significant concept that existed in my mind as I held her warmth against my chest was "finally."

_Finally. _

* * *

_There you have it. There is a final chapter epilouge to come, but this so completes the adventure. I hope you've enjoyed the ride. This was really a joy to write. I was thoroughly in my element to write Angela but I think I've enjoyed Chase even more. I think I've improved minutely in each chapter (although I am so envious of other author's style) and that pleases me._

_Although the ending is quite tidy, there are still some loose ends to tie up: Sephia, the future of the island, Angela's awakening. So I hope you'll all return for that. Thank you everyone for your lovely reviews and encouragement. This project definitely wouldn't have reached a conclusion so quickly without your input. I look forward to everyone's thoughts on the ending :)_

_In conclusion I will be posting a lot more art on my dA for Subject. Not only do I have another collection of sketches to share but I hope to do some full-color companion pieces to celebrate its conclusion. Links to these will be posted on my profile page for those interested._

_Thanks for reading._


	20. Epilogue

_**Angela: My Epilogue**_

_And it began again with a long__ hot summer._

Once the intensely fierce frost on the island came to thaw, the snow vanished overnight and dewy grasses replaced it to glimmer faintly in the gentle morning sun; such a lovely transformation I'll never forget. There was a cloud of my breath on every window.

But it was quick to fade. Under the snow my farm was desolate and unbeautiful, the one imperfect detail always present in my thoughts. Against all advice I pitched with the weight of my hoe, picking over dead stalks and grainy clumps of useless soil scattered with weed. I shucked the unbearable old neglect like the leaves of an ear of corn, hopeful that beneath it all would be a familiar ripeness to tame.

My body would protest early and I would rest under the shady broken eaves of my empty once barn.

I had spent a month in the clinic under Jin's charge juggling with my concept of time. Since the festival season of last year I felt as though I'd lived a very long dream. My legs were like jelly and even the most simple of tasks like spooning my own food was lost to me and had to be relearned. When nighttime fell a panic gripped me; tomorrow there would be nothing. My lifespan was made up of seconds that whispered by like a breeze and at the end I was confined to the tightly creased folds of a hospital bed. It must have been the effect of the tree; a human day was so slight. I would listen to my own heartbeat slow and steady and tap my fingers in time until the feeling subsided.

And of course the morning always came. It was punctuated at an exact time each day by Chase's appearance with a basket full of breakfast.

"Hm," He would consider. "You've been lazy. You could at least brush your hair."

"Ah!" I'd mourn, "You too, did you sleep even a little? You look terrible."

Jin explained my experience away like a coma. It would take time for the body to readjust to everything it had forgotten. Chase always had the same eyes when he listened to the doctor's exam, and I knew too. Disease was an easy answer. At the very least it gave us an excuse to illuminate my disappearance. So the story spread. My bedside table was burdened by flowers of all shapes and sizes. Friends I had misplaced came at all hours with watery eyes and a sense of guilt they couldn't understand. With news of my recovery came the sudden epiphany that I'd been missing from their lives; as though I'd been subtracted from their memories. Renee had been the most apologetic.

But there had always been one absolute constant.

"Oh…you're here too." The screech of chair legs as a second visitor's seat was dragged by bedside and the heavy thud of books near my toes where he would always drop my week's worth of enlightenment.

"Gill," I had trilled. "Did you bring what I asked for?"

"I didn't," his arms crossed.

"You liar." I would cross my arms in response.

"Why are you bothering with this stuff? It's too hot," He said, followed by the reluctant submission of a grocer's bag full of tightly spun and dyed Brownie-farm wool and needles; necessary for my second attempt at knitting a scarf.

"You obviously don't understand how bored I am," Jin and Perry would be next door behind the blue sheeted partitions reviewing procedures. "But… _only complete recovery is good recovery_." A poorly produced accent and mime of glasses could be trusted to result in a sputtering cough over a sip of herbal tea.

"He's right," "Listen to the doctor," both companions had recited in unison and I'd dissolved into a fit of raucous giggles as one attempted to look put-upon amidst reddened cheeks and the other simpered in amused irony.

Chase always made more breakfast than the two of us could eat on our own. The rising suspicion that the extra was for Gill should he materialize turned out to be the correct one the more I began to notice the tingle of tomato flavor my tongue. The gladness I felt when they shot each other their half-hearted insults was unmatched. It eased the ache to some extent when I caught the shadows of tribulation cross their features.

I wiped my sweat away and resumed my grooming. Under the lifeless topsoil I needed to find something familiar. And no amount of tentative rests or admonishment could stop me from relaxing into the stolen hours to perform my daily rituals.

Our happy ending didn't descend in perfection as fairy tales do. Not just my neglected farm but the Island was sick. The winter had been savage, and the ocean raged anew. Greenness diminished as quickly as it came, and no ship moved for weeks. Stock and supply reached a new low and worried glances were tantamount during a stroll through town. Everyone soliciting in terrified wonder with their eyes: _"what has happened?"_ Just as before, in the dark seclusion of my room and the confines of time I would take to kneeling on the floor to pray.

Only Chase could find us a rare moment of privacy to soothe me, pulling me to his chest without warning.

"It's going to get better," He'd say, stroking my hair with both strength and gentleness and moving in close to my nape. "I promise."

Something had changed. I had changed. And that change made me guilty. Once frightened, after a while I had whole-heartedly accepted my new role as the island's Goddess. I had spread my roots through the island and drank from the bright sunlight that touched her earth as I fed her in turn with my love. Even still, I called to Chase as he dreamt, and worse I harbored a flimsy butterfly of hope that he might come for me. Now that we were fully aware of our choices and living them each day through the air we breathed and the food we ate the shame was fast and thick despite there being no one to place any blame. Even Gill would nod through the worst accepting our fate, and while grateful and humbled by his unerring friendship the thought of Gill alone losing his home was enough to deface my casual smile.

So I worked and I toiled, I nursed and I tended. Although I had a special mission for my own land I seeded beyond my farms boundaries and watered all the same. I spread mulch as required and kneaded at the soil. It was exactly that fierce resilience that she had imparted to me.

"_It'__s yours now. You will have to decide how it will live. The result lies in human hands."_

_She had been a Goddess; one completely unlike the ocean-born woman I had dreamt of years ago. Who had been there as I blinked my eyes awake again and it was all a blur. Her silhouette was imperial yet deterred and very ordinary but we had listened with great intent. She shimmered like a reflection on water._

"_Thank you…" her voice broke off candidly as she __looked only to Chase, "she can enjoy her life as she was meant to." His arms were tight around me as I drifted like a lost boat on the tide. "I__'__m glad it was you…" She wanted terribly to kiss him, everything in her faint presence gave it away, but she resisted until he at length answered her._

"Thank you, Sephia."

_There was little else to say. Though disoriented I knew her curse. We had agreed as much; she was permitted to say goodbye and nothing more. Heavy hot tears trickled past my close-pressed eyes as I remembered. No amount of apology could change it, so Chase__'__s reply was as ample as could be offered. Any misguided sentiments would only stain her departure._

_Gill approached with weighted steps of caution, his expression like that of a guilty child but his shoulders steady and firm. He bowed deeply before her and her eyes began to run. After that his bearing became hidden._

_I opened my vision to her at last and saw my own moon-white face and glossy features and I thought to tell her to rest. In a life that she had always lived for someone else, the most selfishness she__'__d ever allowed herself was behind my own skin. In gladness I smiled and she understood._

"_So keep it." She said to me, an echo of our first promise. Although this one had no magic it was more heartfelt and complete than the last. __With a threateningly final smile that reached her beautiful blue irises she dipped her head politely to us and turned away._

_In the fading daylight she broke apart like the thinnest glass._

My heart pounded as I ran home. My secret hour was up. Past the crumbling barn and my old decrepit farmhouse, my veins pulsed to the beat of the nearby river and my bones ached for sleep, but lateness was unacceptable. Through the door with a uniquely diamond shaped window I flew unstoppably until puffing for air I bumped firmly into something warm with arms.

"Alright. How are we going to play this," a lilting voice came. "We can skip dinner or you can just fess up right now."

I straightened slowly and made a show of smoothing my hair from my flush-red cheeks, taking short quiet breaths to hide my exhaustion.

"Angela…" he said with an edge of disapproval.

"Chase," I began quite serenely, "it's customary to greet your wife with a kiss rather than a silly age-old squabble you'll never succeed with."

Never one to be outdone he pressed a chaste kiss to my clammy forehead and no doubt checked my temperature in the same instance. "Don't try that with me." He gifted me a gentle chop. "No seconds."

At the table with its carefully arranged dishware and cutlery I remained bemused. Although what was customary to us was our playful teasing Chase and I had come a long way since my chaotic rescue. We had danced around each other preciously for weeks. And now we were only three days married.

"So, when are you going to tell me?" I had studied the map of his beatific features indiscreetly as he peeled my grapes in the stillness of the blue-sheeted separation that made up my clinic room.

"Tell you what," he replied without flinching.

"You don't expect me to believe you're going to risk an entire society's wellbeing and not even bother to say it…" I pouted but it wasn't as playful as it was anxious that I had hit the nail on the head. He had done his proving and despite his doting attention I had known too much of his weak indecision to remain confident. "Because that's just lame," I added in resolution of my true feelings. Three little words. How hard could it be?

"You're right. It is lame." Eight perfect grapes rested in my bowl like little green jewels. He wiped his fingers on a hand-towel I hadn't noticed before. Those striking lilac eyes of his set on me and I was frozen. "You haven't said it either apart from the time you shouted at me over the fireworks."

I stumbled. A sound erupted from my throat somewhere between a sigh and a groan; it came out like "geh." His smirk was both wicked and devastatingly handsome.

"It's a matter of pride. I'll say it when I mean it." He returned to peeling grapes and allowed me to simmer in my defeat.

The next day we did crosswords with Gill. He was particularly gifted at word games, and Chase was exceptional; I shot guesses wildly. Although I was grateful for any type of distraction to ease the boredom of my imprisonment I waited patiently until we were alone again. I wondered how many more hours Chase could manage to allow himself free from the inn and decided I might not have time for stubbornness.

I clattered out of bed. During his confusion and the knee-jerk reaction to bend and help me I placed a delicate palm to his collarbone with one hand and the other threaded into his hair as I had ached to from the earliest experimental touch. I drew close and was rewarded with the same pliancy of lips that I had received during our first impulsive kiss but only for a moment. Perhaps he was afraid of what I'd become, or maybe he was simply too scared he might break me, fragile as I was in my hospital bed. It was also conceivable that he wondered if he might arrive one morning with breakfast and find me vanished back to a tree, a stone, a glimpse of holy light through the window. I couldn't blame him for any of that. I was always rushing forward for us both.

This time he met me in both force and determination. And his taste was a sour-sweet citrus.

As we parted I breathed ardently near his ear, not to be beaten this time. "Chase." A word, a bullet. His eyes were lit searchingly. "I love you, do you love me too?"

A graceless hiccup of a laugh escaped him and his face softened in a heart-wrenchingly honest smile.

"Angela," he said, without a glimpse of previous hesitation. "Yeah, I do. You're ridiculous and unpredictable, and I love you too."

Even the unlovely Spring seemed bearable. Dead leaves still settled in corners or whipped in the breeze but they may as well have been flower petals for all I could tell. We were young and alone, so marriage seemed a foreign thing. Other than our friends we had no one to call family and the church seemed a daunting place to tie the knot in front of anyone even regardless of of the unmistakable likeness to Sephia and the sprites etched into its slender stained glass windows. Our love was our own. We stood upon the step of my world-weary homestead with hands held amid struggling fields and the remaining splinters of wood that were still scattered and half-buried under loosened dust. A chosen few witnessed our vows that we would be faithful. Our words held promise to both each other and the land. Through sickness and in heath, it was our choices that had brought us here.

Gill our most reluctant and withdrawn witness had clicked his tongue after the ceremony.

"These will make depressing photos." Hamilton who had both led the proceedings and brought the camera tottered awkwardly as he tried to find an angle.

"It's only one. You could smile."I said, rustling my sparse bundle of resilient white flowers at his dour expression.

"Don't force him," Chase interjected, smoothing his hair after Maya continued to muss it in her well-meaning yet over-exuberant hugs. "His natural charm should be captured as intended; even if he does look like he's been stung by a wasp while sucking on a lemon."

Gill's eyebrow arched ever so slightly in an angry twitch as he fought to maintain his poise. Hamilton used the flash on us to check the light and we winced.

I rubbed the speckles of color out of my eyes, "Don't fight in front of a bride. Any future weddings will end up cursed."

"This can hardly be called a wedding…" Gill murmured with a sigh until I jostled him with my bouquet again. Hamilton was twisting knobs and adjusting his tripod with finality.

"Gill, my only wish is for a small token full of smiles." Maya concurred, beaming her brightest to both mother and father in turn until Yolanda settled her back into place. "So please, I'll buy you dinner next time," I pleaded gently.

"-Just think of our inevitable divorce."

"Chase!" I lost my grip on the flowers in distress. Both my husband and my best friend succumbed to laughter. Colleen fussed. Maya cheered. The camera flashed.

That very picture now sat upon our bookshelf. As horrified as I had been at the time a hush had fallen over us and Hamilton straightened to declare his mistake, when the print came back I had laughed noisily. It was perfect in its imperfection, exactly as a family should be.

Chase doled out our servings of something I didn't recognize but that lusciously tickled my senses. A short blessing of thanks and a stab of my fork later I was melting into the flavors. Sounds of pleasure elicited from behind my closed lips. He grinned.

"It's good right? Would you say it tastes familiar?" I was too busy eating another mouthful to reply. "I've been getting a lot of compliments on my cooking lately… I wonder why." He tapped the edge of his fork upon the table rhythmically as he tilted his chin to rest it upon the opposite hand in a casual grace. That little part of me that forgot to change back flickered. My utensil paused before my mouth and my eyes caught on him wonderingly.

"You mean…" my mouth that was once full of Chase's delicious cooking now felt full of cotton.

He gave a chuckle at my gape and fully quirked an . "Have you been working so hard that you haven't noticed?"

"Noticed what?" I dared to ask as my heart fluttered. I was out there every day.

He took a bite, "Well, it might take longer for the trees to catch up." My vision began to swim. If there was anyone I could trust to understand the better inner-workings of the island it was Chase and about this he would never tease me.

I thought of all the little autumn seeds I had already planted vigilantly, and all the surviving foliage that I had mended to survive the austerity of the drought-worthy sun, and a thrill I had chosen to ignore in favor of perpetual forward motion shook me. The glimmer in Chase's amethyst eyes suggested he felt it too although the measure of telling was probably vastly different.

"I suppose we might have a **Harvest Goddess** to thank when we survive the winter," He finished with a hint of mischievousness coloring his expression.

The laugh I produced was a sob of joy. It seemed there was a little magic left in me yet.

**~THE END**

_A/N: and finally, the __real and ultimate end. This is my first truly complete chaptered-work and this chapter was deliciously sappy to write. I hope that everyone could get along with Angela's flashbacking although I didn't want to make it so obvious in the text (minus the Sephia section of italics) am I worrying needlessly? Possibly so. But just in case: Angela rushing home to eat dinner is all present time and the wedding and clinic scenes are all flashbacks. I tried to make this clear without amending the flow too literally but with the conditions of the island jumping back and forth I could understand some minor confusion…_

_Chase and Angela are finally married. At first I wanted to avoid this clichéd outcome but I realized that marriage is very much the forefront of Harvest Moon gameplay. And after all, both Angela and Chase have been searching for the place they belong during the length of this tale. Also they make awfully sweet roommates. Why couldn't they just take another photo? Well remember that supplies in town were short and luxuries like film are probably shortest. Also this image popped into my head and I wholly plan to replicate it on paper :)_

_I know I said it in the last chapter but once again thank you for all your support and clever reviewing. Without your words to propel me we may have never gotten this far. Thank you~_


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